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AND  HIS  MEN, 


BY 


SALLY  KOCH ESTER  FORD. 


SECOND  EDITION. 


} 


MOBILE  : 
S.   HL  GOETZEL. 


1864.    . 


mi  BOLUR 


■!?V 


\     is 


/ 


\ 


RAIDS 


AND 


ROMANCE 


# 

OF 


MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN, 


BY 


SALLY  ROCHESTER   FORD, 


Author  of  "  Grace  Truman,"  "  Mary  Bunyan,"  "  Romance  of  Free  Masonry." 
&.c,  Ac,  &.c. 


SECOND    EDITION. 


MOBILE  : 
S.    H.    QOETZEL. 

1864. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1863,  by 

ki  H.  GOETZEL  8c  CO., 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  Alabama,  for  the 
Confederate  States  of  America. 


-^i 


'  ,  Hz* 

RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 


OP 


MORGAN  AND  HIS    MEN. 


/ 


CHAPTER  L 

THE   iJETERMIXATION. 


"The  cause  is  a  noble  and  just  one,  my  son,  and  if  you  have 
decided,  you  must  go,  I  will  no  longer  oppose  you." 

Thus  spoke  Mr.  R.  to  his  eldest  son  Cbarles,  a  youth  of  nine- 
teen years  of  age,  as  the  two  stood  in  consultation  beneath  a  large 
elm  tree  in*  front  of  their  dwelling,  in  Jefferson  county,  Kentucky, 
near  the  city  of  Louisville. 

It  was  the  evening  of  the  23d  of  September,  1861.  It  were  an 
unnecessary  task  to  attempt  an  extended  history  of  that  eventful 
period  in  tbat  gallant  old  State,  now  the  wild  theatre  of  dark  in- 
justice aud  lawless  tyranny.  The  lofty  hut.  unsuccessful  strug- 
gles of  those  of  her  sons,  whe  boldly  and  at  all  sacrifices,  have 
dared  to  oppose  the  reckless  encroachments  of  a  despotic  Admin- 
istration upon  their  constitutional  rights,  are  but  too  familiar  to 
every  generous  heart  that  has  pulsated  in  sympathy  with  ker  now 
down-trodden  people. 

The  heel  of  the  despot  crushes  her  sons  to  the  earth  ;  his  cruel 
hand  has  torn  from  them  their  liberties,  and  dyed  itself  in  their 
blood.  Rut  they  were  born  freemen  I  And  when  injustice  and 
hate  have  done  their  work  of  purification ;  when  Kentuckians  con- 
vinced through  suffering  of  the  great  error  of  that  party-spirit 
which  now  controls  them,  and  of  the  unnatural  prejudice  which 
blinds  their  reason — when  they  shall  see  clearly  and  appreciate 
fully  the  policy  and  aim  of  this  dreadful  war,  which,  if  prolonged, 
must  ultimately  carry  ruin  to  every  homestead  throughout  both 
sections — tKiy  will  then  ,arise  in  their  might,  and  like  Samson 
Agonistes,  rend  with  one  fearful  effort  the  fetters  that  now  bind 
them. 


A£>itv:j£\ 


4  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE. 

Charles  R.  was  the  eldest  of  a  family  of  six  children — four  boys 
and  two  girls.  Charles,  or  "  Charley,"  as  he  was  familiarly  called 
by  his  family  and  friends,  was  a  fine  exponent  of  true  Kentucky 
character.  Noble,  impulsive,  brave ;  quick  to  perceive  the  right, 
ready  to  defend  it. 

When,  on  the  15th  of  April,  1861,  the  dread  voice  of  war  echoed 
and  re-echoed  throughout  the  land,  rousing  the  millions  from  their 
peaceful  pursuits  into  the  wildest  fury,  fired  with  patriotic  ardor, 
Charley  besought  his  father  to  allow  him  to  seize  his  gun  and 
rush  to  the  defence  of  the  South.  The  father  objected.  His  child 
was  young,  he  was  his  eldest  boy  and  greatly  beloved  ;  and,  more- 
over, amid  the  rapid  rush  of  dread  events,  which  had  so  convulsed  • 
the  nation,  Mr.  II.,  influenced  by  his  life-long  love  "for  the  old 
Union,  had  not  been  able  to  decide  satisfactorily  to  his  own  mind 
where  the  right  rested. 

Bat  the  fearful  unfoldings  of  the  war  policy  of  the  Administra- 
tion, which  took  place  between  the  date  of  Lincoln's  "  War  Proc- 
lamation "  and  the  time  of  which  we  write,  had  fully  decided 
him  in  favor  of  the  South ;  and  although  a  man  distinguished  for 
his  reticence  and  aversion  to  all  unnecessary  political  discussions, 
he  boldly  avowed  his  position,  and  defended  it  by  clear  and  logical 
argument,  whenever  it  was  attacked.  And  his  opposition  to  his 
son's  enlisting  under  the  Southern  banner  was  dictated  by  his  I 
attachment  to  him,  and  not  indifference  to  the  cause. 

On  the  morning  of  the  day  of  which  we  speak,  Charley  (as  we 
shall  continue  to  call  him  throughout  this  narrative)  had  gone  into 
the  city,  as  was  his  daily  custom,  to  learn  the  news  and  procure 
the  morning  paper  for  the  family.  Passing  along  Green  street 
in  the  vicinity  of  the  Custom  House,  he  met  young  Fox,  an  old 
friend  of  his,  whom  he  had  known  for  years. 

"Why,  I  thought  you  were  in  Dixie  Land,  Amos,"  exclaimed 
Charley,  in  surprise,  as  the  two  encountered  each  othe/. 

"Silence,  Charley,  do  not  betray  me,"  whispered  the  young 
man,  as  he  slipped  his  young  friend's  arm  through  his,  and  turn- 
ing into  Third  street  proceeded  towards  Broadway.  The  two 
walked  quickly  along,  avoiding  observation,  until  they  reached  the 
Commons,  outside  the  city.  Then  seating  themselves  on  the  green 
grass  at  the  root  of  an  old  beach  tree,  which  stood  removed  some 
paces  from  the  public  road,  the  two  engaged  in  earnest  conversa- 
tion. 

"Charley,"  said  his  friend  to  him,  "I  know  you  have  from  the 
beginning  of  this  war  been  anxious  to  go  South.  Buckner  is  in 
Kentucky,  as  you  know,  and  every  Southern  man  wtio  can  bear 
arms  ought  to  join  him.  I  have  spoken  to  a  great  many  of  our 
acquaintances,  and  there  is  a  number  of  young  men  upw  ready  and 
only  waiting  for  an  opportunity  to  get  through." 

"And  this  is  all  that  deters  me,"  responded  Charley,  his  whole 
countenance  expressive  of  the  strong  emotion  that  fired  his  breast. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  • 

■"I  have  been  thinking  over  the  matter  for  clays,  and  once  or 
twice  I  have  spoken  to  father  about  it.  You  know  he  has  always 
objected  to  by  going,  because  he'thinks  I  am  too  young;  but  his 
opposition  seems  to  be  yielding.  And  1  am  assured,  when  he  sees 
J  am  determined  to  go,  he  will  consent.  I  shall  make  every  thing 
ready,  and  the  first  opening  that  presents  itself,  I  will  go.  But, 
tell  me,  Amos,  how  did  you  tret  back;  and  what  are  they  doing 
down  at  Bowling  Green  I  We  have  had  so  many  rumors  here, 
no  one  knows  what   to  believe." 

"  I  came  on  the  cars  to  Elizabeth  town.  Being  detained  there 
a  few  days,  I  was  caught'  by  the  blockade  of  the  railroad,  and  had 
to  take  a  baggy  to  ( M  to  the  city." 

"But,  tell  me,  Amos,  why  did  not  Gen.  Buckner  and  his  troop* 
come  to  Louisville!  Last  week  everybody  expected  him.  The 
Union  ladies  kept  themselves  and  children  dressed  and  in  readi- 
ness to  leave  at  a  moment's  notice.  Union  men  sent  their  money 
and  silver-ware  to  .Jell'ersonville.  Obi  I'rentice,  it  is  said,  had  all' 
the  valuables  of  his  printing  office  moved  over  the  river,  and  he 
himself  look  refuge  every  night  on  the  other  side,  that  he  might  be 
sale  from  Buckner  and  his  men.  The  whole  place  was  one  scene 
of  wild  excitement,  everybody  appearing  to  have  taken  leave  of 
their  wits." 

"Gen.  Buckner  would  have  taken  possession  of  Maldrough's 
Hill,  most  assuredly,  had  it  not  been  lor  an  untoward  accident  on 
the  railroad.  I  do  not  know  whether  he  ever  designed  moving 
on  Louisville." 

"And  what  was  this  accident?  Do  tell  me  all  you  know  with 
regard  to  the  Confederates  coining  into  Kentucky  ]  We  have 
wild  and  conflicting -rumors  there." 

"You  must  promise  me  secrecy,  Charley.  I  do  not  know  how 
long  I  may  have  to  stay  here.  And  should  my  name  be  known  as 
connected  with  their  movements,  1  will  certainly  be  arrested." 

"Trust  me,  Amos,  I  will  keep  every  thing  most  masonically," 
responded  Charley,  drawing  closer  to  the  side  of  his  friend. 

"  1  must  begin  back,  in  order  fully  to  explain  the  whole  matter 
satisfactorily   to  you." 

'•  1  »o  so.     I  wish  to  know  every  incident." 

"But  wait  a  moment.  Yonder  is  John  Lawrence  crossing  the 
Common.  Your  old  friend  John,  you  remember  him,  Amos.  He 
has  just  returned  from  Yale,  completely  disgusted  with  the  Yan- 
kees and  everything  pertaining  to  them,  and  is  longing  to  get 
South.     Let  me  call"  him." 

"  Can  we  trust  him  I  " 

"Oh,  yes,  thoroughly  with  us,  and  as  true  as  steel." 

Charley  rose,  and  advancing  a  few  paces  from  tht^ree  beckoned 
to  the  young  man  who  was  leisurely  pursuing  his  way  from  the  high 
road  across  the  open  grass-plat  that  intervened  between  it  and  the 
woodland  to  the  left,     llis  attention  was  arrested  and  with  quick 


6  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

step  he  advanced  to  the  spot  where  Charley  stood.  The  two  ap- 
proached the  tree.  Young  Fox  stepped  forward  and  grasped  the 
hand  of  his  old  friend,  shaking  it  most  cordially. 

"I  have  not  seen  you  for  a  long  time,  John,"  said  he,  as  he  con- 
tinued to  hold  his  hand.  "  You  have  been  living  with  the  Yankees 
for  the  last  two  or  three  years.    How  do  you  like  them  ? " 

"  Plague  take  them.  Don't  talk  to  me  about  liking  Yankees, 
Amos.  I  detest  the  whole  narrow-minded,  nigger-loving  thieving 
race.  And  if  I  could  have  my  wish,  I  would  send  a  bullet 
through  the  last  one  of  them  before  sundown." 

"  You  are  ready  to  shoulder  your  gun  against  them,  then,  are 
you?" 

"Yes,  at  any  moment.  But  tell  me,  how  is  it  you  are  here  ?  I 
made  inquiry  for  you  only  a  few  days  back,  and  your  brother  told 
me  you  were  South.  How  did  you  get  through,  and  what  are  they 
all  doing  down  there  in  Dixie  ?  General  Buckner  is  at  Bowling 
Green  we  know,  and  the  boys  are  having  a  glorious  time,  we  hear, 
but  further  than  this  we  can  learn  nothing." 

"Amos  will  tell  us  all  about  it,  John.  He. was  just  about  to 
begin,  when  I  discovered  you  passing  across  the  Common,  and  I 
begged  of  him  to  allow  me  to  call  you.  I  knew  you  would  be  so 
gratified  to  hear  of  Buckner's  entrance  into  Kentucky,  and  his 
occupation  of  Bowling"  Green." 

The  three  seated  themselves.  Removed  as  they  were  from  the 
road,  there  was  no  probability  of  intrusion  or  interruption. 

"  All  I  tell  you  boys  is  to  be  kept  secret.  Our  enemies  must  not 
be  made  aware  of  our  most  trivial  matters.  It  is  necessary  to  de- 
ceive them,  for  I  tell  you,  boys,  we  have  a  great  deal  to  do  before 
we  are  ready  to  give  them  fight !  "  * 

The  two  readily  acceded  to  his  proposition,  and  the  young  man 
commenced  his  narrative. 

"  On  the  17th  of  this  month,  Gen.  Bucker,  then  at  Camp  Boone, 
despatched  Major  Dick  Wintersmith  to  Elizabethtown  to  seize  all 
the  cars  and  locomotives  that  were  concentrated  at  that  point.  He 
had  previously  written  in  cipher,- to  Cols.  Hardin  Helm  and  Reed, 
who  resided  in  that  town,  to  hold  themselves  in  readiness  to  assist 
in  such  a  movement,  which  would  take  place  in  a  few  days,  and  it 
was  necessary  they  should  have  rolling  stock  to  transport  their 
troops  rapidly  into  the  State.  Major  Wintersmith  proceeded  in 
haste  to  Russellville,  from  which  point  he  telegraphed  Helm,  'All 
right.    I  will  be  up  on  next  train.' 

"From  Russellville  he  went  to  Bowling  Green,  where  he  made 

known  the  secret  of  his  expedition  to  Dr. ,  a  true  Southern 

man,  with  whom  he  left  the  business  of  guarding  the  bridge  over 
Barren  river,  which  was  to  be  done  in  such  a  manner  as  to -avoid 
all  suspicion.  It  was  necessary  to  use  every  precaution,  for  had 
the  Home  Guards  or  Union  men  for  a  moment  supposed  what  was 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  7 

on  hand,  they  would  have  t"om  up  the  track,  or  destroyed  bridges, 
thereby  frustrating  the  whole  project. 

"  Having  made  every  arrangement  for  safety  and  success  at  this 
point  that  his  limited  time  would  permit,  Major  Wintersmith  came 
on  to  Cave  City. 

"  Here,  as  you  are  aware,  the  trains  pass  each  other.  As  the 
train  bound  for  Bowling  Green  came  up  beside  the  up  train,  Blan- 
ton  Duncan,  who  you  know  is  an  excitable  man,  rushed  to  the  plat-  . 
form  and  called  out  to  know  if  Mitchell  La  Peet  was  on  board, 
stating  in  a  hurried  nervous  manner,  that  twenty  policemen  from 
Louisville  were  in  waiting  at  Elizabethtown  to  arrest  him  as  soon 
as  he  should  reach  there.  This,  of  course,  was  alarming  intelli- 
gence to  Major  Wintersmith,  who  felt  for  a  moment  foiled  in  his 
undertaking.  But  being  self-possessed,  and  of  a  brave,  daring 
nature,  and  fully  realizing  the  importance  of  the  work  entrusted' to 
him,  he  in  a  moment  decided  to  call  in  the  council  and  aid  of 
several  gentlemen  on  board  the  ears,  who  he  well  knew  were 
Southern,  and  would  dare  anything  to  serve  their  cause.  The 
few  minutes  allowed  him  to  execute  his  purpose  were  actively  em- 
ployed in  providing  for  guarding  the  road  at  all  points  where  it 
was  feared  rails  might  be  removed  or  bridges  burned. 

"With  two  or  three  friends  on  whom  he  could  depend  in  any 
exigency,  he  pursued  his  way  to  Elizabethtown,  not  knowing  but 
that  he  would  lie  seized  as  soon  as  he  should  reach  the  depot,  yet 
determined  to  risk  bis  life  in  the  accomplishment  of  bis  trust, 
Reaching  Elizabethtown,  and  ascertaining  there  was  no  such 
police  force  there,  as  Col.  Duncan  had  mentioned,  his  first  inquiry 
was  for  Col.  Helm.  To  his  bitter  disappointment  and  deep  chagrin 
he  learned  that  that  personage  had  left  and  set  out  with  his  family 
on  the  morning  train  for  Nashville. 

"  At  the  flepot  he  met  Col.  Reed,  who,  with  others,  had  come 
down  to  meet   him. 

" '  And  Helm  is  gone ! '  was  his  exclamation,  as  he  seized 
Reed's  hand. 

"  '  Yes,'  was  the  response. 

"'And  what  is  our  prospeot f  No  Union  force  here,  I  sup- 
pose ?  '  be  asked,  hurriedly,  of  his  friend. 

"  '  None.' 

"'Well,  then,'  added  Major  Wintersmith,  '  wc  shall  accom- 
plish the  work.  Are  you  armed  Reed  ?  What  we  do  must  In- 
done  quickly.  Not  a  moment  to  lose.  And  we  must  proceed 
quietly,  also.     Any  alarm  will  ruin  us.' 

"Major  Wintersmith,  accompanied  by  his  telegraph  operator,, 
whom  he  had  brought  with  him  from  Nashville,  and  followed  by 
young  La  Rue,  a  nephew  of  John  L.  Helm,  rushed,  without  a  mo- 
ment's delay,  up  stairs  into  the  telegraph  ofh\ e,  which  was  situ- 
ated at  the  depot.  The  operator,  scared  out  of  his  propriety  by 
this  sudden  appearance  in    his  room  of  two  armed  men,  and  awed 


8  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

by  their  stern  words  and  determined  manner,  made  but  little  op- 
position, and  with  a  few  remonstrative  remarks,  yielded  up  his 
position  to  the  young. man  whom  Major  Wintersmith  had  brought 
with  him.  , 

"  '  Dispatch  to  Louisville,'  commanded  the  Major,  '  that  the  cars 
are  off  the  track.    Nobody  hurt.    Will  be  in  late  this  afternoon.' 

The  order  was  obeyed.  The  Yankee  operator  was  then  placed 
under  guard,  and  the  Major,  with  the  assistance  of  Colonel  Reed, 
young  La  Rue,  and  others  who  readily  joined  his  standard  as  soon 
as  his  object  was  known,  proceeded  with  all  possible  energy,  to 
seize  all  the  locomotives  and  cars  found  in  the  place.  One  engi- 
neer, when  commanded  to  leave  his  position,  positively  refused  to 
yield. 

"  « We  do  not  wish  to  hurt  you,  sir,'  said  Major  Wintersmith,  to 
him  in  a  tone  which  bespoke  the  decision  of  his  heart,  '  but  we 
must  have  your  locomotive  and  train,  and  it  is  useless  for  you  to 
resist.  We  are  armed  and  determined  to  perform  the  work  as- 
signed us  by  our  authorities.' 

44  « Well,  gentlemen,'  replied  the  engineer,  who  was  convinced  of 
the  propriety  of  acquiescence,  '  I  yield  only  to  force,  and  I  wish 
this  distinctly  understood.' 

" « Oh,  certainly,  sir,'  replied  the  Major,  *  we  compel  you.' 

44  '  Will  you  give  me  a  certificate  to  this  effect  1 ' 

44 '  Assuredly,  sir.' 

14  The  certificate  was  written,  and  the  engineer  withdrew,  leav- 
ing Major  Wintersmith  and  his  friends  in  possession  of  the  train. 

"  This  was  a  most  valuable  acquisition — the  locomotive  being 
the  finest  on  the  road,  and  moreover  the  cars  were  laden  with 
such  provisions  as  the  Confederate  troops  most  needed." 

44  Bravo,  bravo,"  shouted  two  listeners,  wild  with  the  enthusiasm 
with  which  the  Major's  success  had  inspired  them.  44  Three  cheers 
for  Wintersmith  and  Reed  !  " 

"  And  I  do  hope,"  added  young  Lawrence;  "  that  the  Confed- 
erates may  get  every  pound  of  the  vast  stores  that  for  weeks  have 
been  accumulating  at  Elizabethtown.  Father  has  a  large  quan- 
tity of  bacon  and  flour  there,  and,  in  his  name,  I  bid  Buckner  and 
his  brave  followers  a  hearty  welcome  to  it  all.  Three  times  three 
for  the  South  !"  he  vociferated,  as  he  took  off  his  cap  and  waved  it 
energetically  in  the  air.  "  May  she  triumph  on  every  battle-field, 
and  whip  the  Yankees  to  death  in  every  engagement.  ,  But  resume 
your  narrative,  Fox,  excuse  my  interruption." 

"  As  soon  as  Major  Wintersmith  had  obtained  full  possession  of 
all  the  rolling  stock,  and  so  guarded  it  as  to  secure  it  against  any 
attempt  at  recapture,  he  sent  a  locomotive  and  tender,  with  about 
twenty  armed  men,  led  by  Colonel  Reed  and  La  Rue,  towards  The 
Junction,  for  the  purpose  of  capturing  the  train  from  Lebanon  to 
Louisville,  and  also  the  evening  train  from  Louisville  to  Bowling 
Green.     This  undertaking  was  eminently  successful  in  getting  pos- 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  9 

session  of  both  trains,  butunfortunately  for  the  sortie,  some  wretcl? 
escaped  from  the  train  while  it  stood  at  the  Junction,  and  running 
about  a  half  mile  in  advance,  tore  up  the  rails;  and i when  a  few 
minutes  afterward  the  train  came  dashing  along  at  full  speed,  the 
front  passenger  car  was  thrown  off  the  track  and  precipitated  some 
thirty  or  forty  feet  down  a  precipice.  The  next  car,  strange  to 
say,  was  detached  and  fell  directly  across  the  road. 

"This,  as  you  may  well  imagine,  was  a  fearful  situation  for  the 
expeditionists.  Some  two  or  three  locomotives,  together  with  a 
freight  and  construction  train  were  behind  the  fallen  car.  This 
must  be  removed  and  the  road  repaired  before  there  was  any  pos- 
sibility of  advancing  towards  their  destination.  They  werti  mo- 
mentarily expecting  an  attack  from  the  Home  Guard  of  that  region, 
who,  they  had  been  informed,  were  assembling  to  capture  them. 
And,  to  add  to  their  troubles,  night  was  rapidly  approaching  and 
the  rain  began  to  fall  heavily. 

"But  nothing  daunted,  the  boys,  led  by  Col.  Reed,  threw  off 
their  coats  and  set  about  removing  the  car  that  blocked  up  the 
road.  It  was  an  arduous  undertaking.  They  worked  with  right 
good  will,  however,  using  fence  rails  and  whatever  they  could 
make  available  to  expedite  their  undertaking.  The  passengers,  of 
whom  none  were  killed,  and  only  one  man  severely  bruised,  lent 
their  assistance.  They  were  mostly  Southern  men,  and  those  who 
professed  Unionism  were  not  so  tenacious  of  their  avowed  princi- 
ples" as  to  prevent  their  participating  in  the  novel  and  exciting 
work.  But  the  task  was  a  gigantic  one,  and  it  was  near  the  morn- 
ing before  the  car  was  hurled  over  the  precipice  to  take  position 
with  its  predecessor.  This  being  at  last  done,  it  was  the  work  of 
but  a  few  minutes  to  replace  the  rails,  bring  back  the  locomotive, 
which  had  strangely  leaped  the  gap  and  landed  safely  on  the  other 
side,  attach  it  to  the  train,  and  drive  at  full  speed  to  Elizabeth- 
town. 

"  Meanwhile,  Major  Wintersmith  had  placed  the  town  under 
martial  law.  sent  out  pickets  and  videttes,  dispatched  messengers 
to  Bardstown  and  other  points  to  collect  together  some  companies 
which  were  in  a  state  of  partial  organization,  and  bring  them  in — 
and  had  made  all  necessary  preparation  to  return  to  Bowling 
Gueen,  where  he  was  to  meet  Gen.  Buckner  and  the  troops  from 
Camps  Boone  and  Trousdale."    . 

"  And.  what  was  the  sum  total  of  the  expedition,  Fox?  "  asked 
Charley.  "  The  Major  and  his  friends  must  have  gotten  a  rich 
booty." 

"  They  took  eight  good  locomotives  ;  among  the  number,  that 
superior  one  I  mentioned,  which  is  by  far  the  b.'st  in  the  West, 
about  two  hundred  cars,  fifty  of  these  being  construction  cars',  that 
are  so  much  needed  at  Bowling  Green,  an  immense  amount  of  pro- 
visions of  all  kinds  which  will  be  most  acceptable  to  Buckner's 
army,  and  all  this  without  the  loss  of  one  life." 


10  RAIgS  AND  ROMANCE 

"  Capital !  "  exclaimed  young  Lawrence,  springing  to  his  feet, 
and  again  tossing  up  his  cap  with  cheers  for  Wintersmith  and  the 
Confederacy.  "  I  heartily  wish,  hoys,  that  they  would  come  and 
take  Louisville  as  easily." 

"  But  tell  us,  Fox,  why  did  not  General  Buckner  come  to  Louis-' 
ville  V 

"I  am  not  sure  that  he  designed  the  occupation  of  our  city. 
He  wished,  however,  to  possess  Muldrough's  Hill,  and  the  day 
after  he  reached  Bowling  Green,  he  sent  forward  the  2d  Kentucky, 
Hanson's  Regiment, 'for  this  purpose.  But,  unfortunately,  some 
vile  Unionist  had  torn  up  the  road,  and  the  cars  containing  the 
men  were  precipitated  from  the  track." 

" Any 'body  hurt  1 "  interrupted  Charley. 

"  Not  a  man.  •  It  was  really  Providential  that  no  life  was  lost. 
Beforevthe  road  could  be  prepared,  Rousseau  had  advanced,  and 
thus  Gen.  Buckner's  designs  were  wholly  frustrated,"    - 

"How  unfortunate!"  exclaimed  Charley.  ,;  This  city  would 
have  been  aneasy  prey,  and  Gen.  Buckner  and  his  men  would, 
have  been  hailed  as  deliverers,  benefactors,  by  a  large  portion  of 
the  citizens.  Now,  I  fear,  it  is  too  late — too  late.  These  hordes 
of  blue-coated  Abolitionists  that  daily  pass  through  the  streets, 
must  necessarily  impede  his  progress  ;  I  fear,  may  prevent  it  alto- 
gether." 

"  And  this  is  the  reason  why  Gen.  Buckner  did  not  come  to  Lou- 
isville," remarked  Lawrence.  "  We  could  not  tell  why  it  was, 
but,this  explains  it  all.  Rumor  gave  a  thousand  reasons,  but  you 
know  nothing  can  be  credited  in  these  days  of  falsehood  and  ex- 
aggeration." 

"Do  you  think,  Fox,  that  Buckner  will  come  soon,"  asked 
Charley,  thoughtfully." 

"  Not  soon." 

"  Why  not  ? " 

"  Because  of  his  want  of  men.  He  has  but  a  small  force ;  much 
less  than  persons  suppose ;  but  he  is  determined  to  remain  in  his 
present  position.  As  to  whether  he  will  advance,  that  will  depend 
entirely  upon  the  reinforcements  he  shall  receive  and  the  force  sent 
against  him." 

"  If  he  cannot  come  to  us,  John,  we  can  go  to  him.  We  should 
not  remain  idle  here  while  our  cause  is  suffering  for  men  to  defend 
it.  What  say  you,  John,  shall  we  not  hazard  every  thing  to  reach 
Buckner?" 

"  Yes,  Charley,  I  will  go  home  and  make  arrangements  to  leave 
at  the  very  earliest  opportunity.    When  do  you  go  baok,  Fox  ?  ". 

"I'll  leave  to  night." 

"  Could  you  not  delay  a  few  days  in  order  to  give  Charley  and 
me  time  to  get  ready]" 

"  I  am  under  promise  and  have  made  all  my  arrangements  to 
set  out  at  ten  to-night,  otherwise  I  would  wait  for  you  with  plea- 


,     OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  11 

sure.  Bat  you  'will  find  opportunities  for  getting  through.  Young 
men  are  constantly  leaving  this  portion  of  the  State  to  join  Buck- 
ner.  There  is  a  camp  near  Bloomfield,  where  whole  companies 
have  several  times  rendezvoused  amd  gone  through.  Your  safest 
way  would  bo  to  go  there.    But  list,  what,  does  that  music  mean?" 

"Another  Abolition  regiment  wending  its  way  to  the  Nashville 
depot,  no  doubt,"  replied  young  Lawrence.  "My  blood  grows 
hot  as  I  think  of  their  polluted  feet  desecrating  the  streets  of  our 
city.  It  is  hard  to  bear  the  sight,  boys.  And  yet,  where  is  the 
remedy  V  . 

"It  can  be  found  only  in  throwing  ourselves  against  them,  John, 
and  driving  them  back  to  their  own  homes.  Wo  are  subjugated 
unless  we  can  conquer." 

"  True,  true  ;  there  is  no  other  deliverance.  And  I  for  one  will 
risk  my  life  for  freedom." 

The  three  arose  and  walked  towards  the  city.  At  the  corner  of 
Broadway  and  Third  streets  they  separated,  each  to  enter  upon 
active  preparations  for  joining  the  army  at  Bowling  Green. 

An  hour  afterward,  Charley  and  John  encountered  each  other 
in  front  of  the  Gait,  House. 

"  I  shall  leave  to-morrow  night,  Lawrence.  I  have  just  seen 
young  Ashmore,  who  tolls  me  that  my  only  hope  is  to  go  through 
Bloomfield,  as  suggested, by  Fox.     He  sets  out  to-night." 

"I  will  go  with  you,  Charley." 

"Meet  me,  then,  to-morrow  night,  at  the  first  toll  gate  on  the 
the  Bardstown  pike.  I  shall  he  in  the  city  again  to-morrow,  hut 
for  fear  1  may  not  see  you,  I  now  will  make  this  arrangement." 

"Very  well." 

Charley  made  some  necessary  purchases,  and  without  delay 
drove  homeward. 


CHAPTER  II. 


THE    PARTING. 


As  Charley  reached  the  stile*,  he  Raw  his  father  approaching  the 
house  through  the  lawn.  Securing  the  horse,  >he  hastened  to  meet 
him  and  unfold  to  him  bis  purpose.  The  father  was  not  surprised. 
For  weeks  he  had  observed  the  restless,  thoughtful'  manner  of  his 
sor^,  and  had  divined  the  cause.  It  had  given  him  much  anxious 
thought  and  many  a  heart-pang,  for  he  was  conscious  the  time 


12  EAIDS  AND  KOMANCE 

was  fast  approaching  when  a  final  decision  must  be  had.  He 
could  not  forbid  his  son's  going,  yet  he  felt  very  averse  at  bis  im- 
mature age  to  yield  him  to  the  chances  of  a  war  which  he  already 
foresaw  must  be  sanguinary  and  protracted. 

Therefore,  when  Charley  broke  his  intention  to  him,  he  endea- 
vored with  all  a  father's  yearning  tenderness,  to  dissuade  him  from 
his  purpose. 

Charley  listened  to  his  father's  arguments,  but  remained  uncon- 
vinced. 

"  I  must  go,  father,  and  go  now.  It  will  not  do  for  me  to  delay 
longer,"  he  replied,  with  fixed  determination.  "  To  remain  at 
home  while  the  Southern  cause  is  calling  aloud  for  aid,  would  be 
disgrace,  infamy.  You,  yourself,  father,  could  not  respect  me,  if 
I  should  hesitate,  now  that,  our  own  Kentucky  is  invaded  by  the 
dastard  abolition  foe." 

His  face  was  flushed — his  voice  trembled  with  the  depth  of  his 
emotion — his  dark  hazel  eye  glowed  with  patriotic  fire. 

The  father  gazed  upon  his  son — his  opposition  yielded.  The 
noble  ardor  of  his  boy  had  conquered  him. 

The  two  passed  into  the  house.  The  family  were  made  ac- 
quainted with  the  young  man's  resolve.  Witheringly  the  intelli- 
gence fell  on  the  fond  mother's  heart.  '  Like  the  fiery  shaft  that 
suddenly  darts  from  the  surcharged  cloud,  spreading  death  and 
desolation  over  the  beautiful  and  glowing  landscape,  so  came  this 
terrible  blow  to  sweep  away  in  darkness  and  sadness  every  hope, 
every  joy.  She  bowed  her  head  in  silence.  No  word  escaped  her 
lips,  as  she  sat  gazing  on  the  smouldering  embers  in  the  grate. 

How  could  she  give  her  boy,  her  eldest  born,  her  well  beloved 
son  to  the  horrid  fate  of  war  ?  Her  heart  stood  still  before  the 
appalling  picture. 

"  Oh,  my  son !  "  she  exclaimed,  after  a  few  minute's  thought. 
"  I  cannot  let  you  go.  It  is  more  than  I  can  bear.  You  are  so 
young,  so  inexperienced.  You  can  not  conceive  of  all  you  will 
have  to  undergo,  even  if  you  could  get  through  safely.  But  this 
is  impossible.  Danger  is  on  every  side.  The  enemy  is  scattered 
on  every  hand,  and  the  Home  Guard,  an  undisciplined  mob,  are 
well  armed  and  infest  every  town  and  cross  road.  There  is  no 
way  open  for  you." 

"  I  know  it  all,  mother,  and  have  fullv  considered  all  I  shall 
have  to  undergo,  but  I  would  brave  all  this  and  ten-fold  more  to 
strike  for  the  right.  I  must  go,  and  that  immediately.  These 
dangers  that  you  speak  of  increase  every  hour." 

"  But,  hoiccan  you  go,  my  sou  ?  You  cannot  make  your  way 
through  the  Federal  lines.  There  isno  way.'  We  are  hemmed  in 
on  all  sides. 

"  There  is  a  camp,  mother,  near  Bloofcifield,  in  Nelson  county. 
I  will  seek  that  and  go  out  with  others.  ■  Men  are  constantly  leav- 
ing this  point  to  join  Buckner. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  13 

The  mother  could  not  give  her  consent.  Neither  could  she 
further  oppose  the  unalterable  purpose  of  her  son.  With  that 
sadness  which  only  a  mother's  heart  can  feel  under  a  similar  trial, 
she  busied  herself  with  the  necessary  preparations  to  secure  a  com- 
fortable outfit.  Every  thing  was  conducted  quietly.  Neighbors 
might  betray,  servants  might  tell  tales. 

"Lu,"  said  Charley  to  his  sister,  who  sat  beside  him  sewing 
away  as  fast  as  she  could  on  some  flannel  undergarments  for  her 
brother, "'you  must  go  into  the  city  to-morrow  and  bring  out 
Mary  Lawrence." 

"  Bat  she  will  not  come,  Charley.  You  know  John  is  going  to 
the  army." 

"  1  will  see  John,  and  get  him  to  come  out  too.  We  will  leave 
here  together." 

"  Oh,  well,  that  will  answer  finely.  I  should  like  to  see  John 
once  more  before  he  turns  soldier.  He  used  to  be  one  of  my  great 
friends.  But  I  have  not  met  him  since  his  stay  among  the  Yan- 
kees.    1  might  not  admire  him  so  much  now." 

"  He  is  not  changed,  Lu,  only  improved.  Tou  would  be  charm- 
ed with  him.     He  is  so  agreeable,  so  noble,  so  handsome." 

"  Ah,  don't  speak  his  paises  too  rapturously,  Charley.  It  might 
revive  the  old  flame.  You  know  we  used  to  play  sweetheart  when 
we  were  children.' 

"  Oh,  yes,  so  you  did,  and  who  knows  what  may  result  from  your 
meeting  to-morrow.  But  you  will  bring  Mary  out,  Won't  you? — 
And  get  her,  Lu,  to  go  to  Elrod's  and  have  her  ambrotypo  taken 
for  me.     She  will  not  refuse." 

"  Very  well.     1  shall  do  all  I  can  to  meet  your  requests." 

"  Dear  kind  sister,  you  are  "  said  Charley,  throwing  his  arms 
around  her  neck  and  kissing  her  soft  white  cheek. 

"  I  cannot  go  with  you  to-night,  Charleys"  said  his  friend  to, 
him- as  they  met  the  next  day  at  Manderville's  clothing  store. 

"  And  why  not,  John  ?"  asked  Charley,  surprised.   " 

"  Mother  is  quite  sick  to-day.  As  soon  as  I  told  her  last  night 
of  my  arrangement  to  go  out  with  you,  she  was  seized  with  one  of 
her  old  attacks,  and  Dr.  Hardin  told  pa  this  morning,  that  if  I 
should  persevere  in  my  intention  it  might  cost  her  her  life.  You 
know  she  has  disease  of  the  heart,  and  is  likely  to  die  at  any  mo- 
ment, I  feel  that  I  can  scarcely  relinquish  my  .undertaking.  I 
have  made  every  preparation.  See  that  large  package  of  goods 
there.  Pa  got  me  a  complete  outfit,  and,  moreover,  has  bought  for 
me  a  splendid  horse  from  Bacon's.  But  my  duty  to  my  mother, 
Charley,  is  beyond  my  duty  to  my  country.  And  I  feel  that  I 
must  delay  until  I  can  gain  her  consent." 

"  I  regret  this  John,  deeply  regret  it.  But  you  have  decided 
rightly.  Good-by,  my  friend,  time  presses  me.  I  hope  we  shall 
soon  meet  again  where,  with  the  brave  hearts  of  the  South,  we 
can  shoulder  our  arms  in  freedom's  cause." 


14  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

They  grasped  each  other's  hands  firmly,  and  with  a  hearty 
shake  and  a  word  of  adieu  the  two  friends  parted. 

It  was  the  sunset  hour.  Charley  and  Mary  sat  beside  the  open 
widow,  looking  out  upon  the  still,  quiet  scene  beyond.  The  lawn 
with  its  carpet  of  green,  and  shaded  here  and  there  by  clumps/of 
grand  old  forest  trees,  spread  out  before  them.  Beyond  it,  in  the 
distant  horizon  was  the  dim  hazy  outline  of  the  city.  The  rich 
mellow  rays  of  the  autumnal  sun  were  flooding  the  western  sky 
with  a  radiant  glory,  such  as  we  dream  lights  up  the  faraway 
abode  of  the  angels.     It  was  a  soft,  sweet  moment  for  love. 

The  two  young  hearts  sat  there  in  silence,  each  pulsating  with 
fervent  emotion  :  "  What  an  age  of  anxious  bliss  we  often  live  in 
a  few  moments."  The  hand  of  the  dial  has  scarcely  moved  over 
the  horoscope  of  time,  but  in  these  few  fleeting  moments,  we  have 
added  to  "our  experience  either  of  pleasure  or  pain  years  of  thought 
and  feeling.  Oh,  these  dashes  of  joy  and  of  grief,  how  far  adown 
our  life-path  they  throw  their  gladness  and  their  gloom.  Charley 
was  first  to  break  the  silence. 

"  You  will  not  forget  me,  Mary,  when  I  am  gone  !  Years  may 
pass  before  we  meet  again.  Others  will  gather  round  you,  and 
perhaps  will  strive  to  win  your  love.  Will  they  succeed  ?  The 
thought  is  madness  to  me.  You  know  I  loved  you,  Mary,  when 
in  our  earliest  years  we  used  to  go  with  the  Sabbath-school  to  our 
holiday  pic-nics,  or  in  winter-time  meet  with  our  school-mates  in 
our  childish  parties.  I  have  loved  you  always,  ever.  My  affec- 
tion for  you  has  never  known  change.  And  could  I  feel  now  that 
you  could  love  another  ;  that  while  I  am  away,  an  exile  from  my 
home  and  friends,  you  should  cease  to  think  of  me,  forget  to  love 
me  ! — Oh,  the  thought  is  anguish,  Mary,  but  I  will  not  doubt  you. 
You  have  ever  been  true,  even  when  far  away.  Shall  I  not  rely 
on  your  constancy  in  the  future,  as   I  have  found  it  in  the  past  V 

Great  tears  stood  in  Mary's  large  blue  eyes  as  Charley's  words 
of  doubt  fell  on  her  ear.  She  felt  that  her  heart  was  wronged 
even  by  a  suspicion  of  her  faithfulness.  The  pearly  drops  gathered 
and  chased  each  other  down  her  flushing  cheeks.  In  a  voice  brok- 
en with  emotion,  she  said : 

"'  How  can  you  doubt  me  thus,  Charley  1  You  do  me  wrong  to 
dream  that  I  could  ever  forget  you.  [  have  always  been  true. 
When  we  were  separated  for  months,  you  had  never  a  reason  to 
suppose  for  a  moment  that  I  ceased  to  remember  you.  Why  should 
you  feel  so  now,  that  I  am  older  and  have  loved  you  longer'?" 

"  Oh,  I  do  not  doubt  you,  Mary,"  he  answered,    clasping  the 
soft  dimpled  hand  in  his,  and  pressing  it   to  his  lips.     "  Pardon 
me  if  my  language  seemed  to  betray  a  thought  of  change  in  your 
'  affection.     You  know  love  is  jealous,  apprehensive." 

"  Oh,  do  not  say  so,  Charley,  you  pain  my  heart.  Love  should 
be  without  suspicion,  trusting,  confiding.  I  do  not  doubt  you..  I 
do  not  feel  that  any  dark-eyed  daughter  of  Dixie  could  ever  su  p- 
plant  me  in  your  love." 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  15 

"  Never,  never,  Mary.  In  life  and  in  death  I  shall  prove  faith- 
ful to  you.  And  should  I  never  return,  should  I  fall  unnoted,  and 
no  friend  be  near  to  bear  my  dying  words  to  you,  rest  assured 
that  as  now,  your  image  shall  dwell  in  my  heart,  and  naught  but 
the  dread  hand  of  death  shall  ever  wrest  it  from  its  shrine." 

Mary  looked  upon  him  in  her  artless  beauty.  Tears  were  stream- 
ing from  her  soft  blue  eyes,  and  her  color  came  and  went  with  the 
varying  emotions  of  her  heart.  Never  had  she  appeared  to 
Charley  half  so  lovely.  Her  dark  auburn  curls  were  thrown 
back  from  the  full  smooth  brow,  whose  whiteness  was  that  of  the 
Parian  marble.  And  from  the  liquid  depths  of  those  large  beauti- 
ful eyes,  fringed  with  their  long  silken  lashes,  and  now  suffused 
with  tears,  spoke  out  the  true  loving  soul  of  woman  in  all  its  in- 
genuous tenderness  and  trust.  She  was  about  to  break  the  silence 
that  had  succeeded  Charley's  impassioned  avowal,  when  a  buggy 
drove  to  the  stile  and  a  gentleman  spFinging'  "hastily  from  it,  and 
throwing  wide  the  gate,  entered  the  yard  with  a  rapid  step. 

"  Oh,  it  is  John.  My  mother!  my  motHer!"  exclaimed  Mary, 
hastening  to  meet  her  brother. 

Her  conjecture  was  but  too  true."  Mrs.  Lawrence  had  grown 
suddenly  much  worse,  and  Dr.  Hardin  had  requested  that  Mary, 
who  was  her  mother's  nurse  in  her  sickness,  should  be  sent  for. 

In  a  few  moments  Mary  was  bonnetted,  ready  to  accompany  her 
brother  to  the  city.     Charley  waited  for  her  in  the  hall. 

"  The  ambrotypeT  Mary.     Did   you  not  have  it  taken  for  me  V 

She  drew  the  picture  from  her  pocket,  and  handed  it  to  him.  Aa 
he  received  it  he  detained  her  hand  a  moment,  and  placed  on  it  a 
beautiful  diamond  ring. 

"  And  yours,  Charley.    Am  I  not  to  have  it  ?" 

"  Lu  will  give  it  you,  Mary.  I  left  it  at  the  gallery  to  be  fin- 
ished.    Write  me,  Mary,  when  I  am  gone." 

She  sweetly  smiled  assent,  as  she  turned  those  soft  speaking 
eyes  up  to  his.  He  led  her  to  the  stile,  and  kissing  her  burning 
cheek,  assisted  her  into  the  buggy.  The  brother  seated  himself  be-  * 
side  her.  A  look  of  love  through  the  fast-falling  tear-drops,  an- 
swered by  one  which  spoke  far  more  eloquently  than  language 
could  have  done,  the  deep  passionate  idolatry  of  Charley's  soul, 
and  the  lovers  parted  to  meet — when  ?     Ah,  when  ? 

Night  drew  on.  The  busy  preparations  were  completed.  The 
best  horse  was  saddled,  and  brought  to  the  door.  The  mother's 
burdened  heart  was  well  nigh  breaking.  The  father  passed  through 
the  house  with  a  bewildered,  distracted  air,  like  one  seeking  some 
object,  which  his  mind  does  not  fully  comprehend.  Lu  was  grave 
to  sadness.  Tenderly  she  loved  her  brother,  and  sorely  her  heart 
was  grieved  at  the  thought  of  his  leaving  home.  But  her 'youth- 
ful imagination  clothed  even  her  sorrows  with  the  bright-hued  tints 
of  hope.  And  in  the  future  she  already  saw  her  brother  receiving 
the  honors  and  fame  which  the  brave  patriot  merits. 


16  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

"  God  be  with  you,  and  shield  you,  my  son,  in  the  dread  day  of 
battle,"  sobbed  the  weeping  mother,  as  she  pressed  her  boy  to  her 
bosom  in  the  parting  embrace.  She  could  add  no  more.  Her 
heart  was  too  full  for  words.  She  could  only  weep  as  she  held 
him  in  her  arms.     The  father  gave  his  blessing. 

"  God  be  with  you,  Charley.  Remember  the  cause  for  which 
you  go  forth  to  fight,  my  son,  and  may  you  be  spared  to  return  to 
us." 

Lu  kissed  him,  weeping  bitterly,  as  she  threw  her  arms  about 
his  neck,  while  Lilly  and  Willie,  the  youngest-born,  clung  to  him 
as  if  they  could  not  let  him  go.  It  was  a  sad  solemn  moment— >• 
one  when  the  heart  forgets  the  bright  past  in  sorrow  for  the  pres- 
ent, and  beats  with  fearful  forebodings  for  the  years  to  come. 
Charley  alone  of  all  the  group,  looked  out  with  hopeful  eye  on  the 
path  before  him.  Ridding  them  adieu,  he  mounted  his  horse  and 
turned  from  his  home  to  seek  his  way  to  the  Confederate  army. 


CHAPTER  III. 


FINDING    THE     CAMP. 


The  soft  gtars  of  September  studded  the  heavens,  shedding  a 
pale  dreamy  light  over  the  still  earth.  The  night  air  was  chill. 
The  evening  breeze,  which  had  now  increased  to  a  stiff  north  wind, 
swept  southward  from  the  river.  But  neither  the  chastened  beauty 
of  the  one,  or  the  discomfort  of  the  other,  could  serve  to  distract 
the  thoughts  of  our  young  hero  from  the  glowing  visions  that  filled 
his  mind.  He  was  taking  a  look-out  into  the  future,  and  with  that 
hopefulness  peculiar  to  the  young,  which  all  the  accumulated  .ex- 
perience of  the  world,  taught  in  history,  biography,  homily,  didac- 
tics, and  the  every  day  life  of  all  who  are  growing  old,  cannot 
school,  warn,  or  overcome,  his  earnest  soul  was  crowning  that  fu- 
ture with  fame,  honor  and  enjoyment.  All  the  wild  and  brilliant 
excitement  of  a  soldier's  life  was  before  him,  and  his  young  heart 
bounded  with  rapturous  exultation  as  in  imagination  he  dashed  on 
through  victorious  conflict  towards  the  goal  of  his  hopes. 

Alas !  poor,  inexperienced  boy.  He  was  revelling  amid  the 
rainbow  tints  of  fancy.  He  saw  not  the  labored  march,  the  tent- 
less  bivouac,  the  gore   of  the  battle  field,  the  loathsome  prison- 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  17 

house.  He  thought  not  of  the  home  he  had  left ;  not  of  the  kind 
mother  who  was  even  then  offering  up  ^  prayer  for  her  boy's  safe- 
ty ;  not  of  the  indulgent  father,  to  whom  the  long  night-watches 
were  hours  of  restless,'  anxious  fear;  not  of  the  loving  sister 
whose  tears  of  affection  were  then  bedewing  her  sleepless  pillow; 
aye,  even  the  image  of  the  dark-haired,  gentle  Mary  was  momen- 
tarily obscured  by  these  dazzling  phantoms  of  war. 

On  and  on  he  rode,  busy  with  his  own  inspiring  thoughts.  He 
met  only  a  passing1  traveler  on  the  journey.  As  day  broke  over 
the  earth,  weary  and  chilled  he  neared  Bloomfield,  where  he  ex- 
pected to  find  Capt.  Jack  Allen  with  his  men.  He*  entered  the 
town  as  the  grey  mists  of  morning  were  lifting  themselves  from 
the  humid  earth.  As  he  approached  the  inn  he  saw  crossing  the 
highway,  two  men,  like  himself,  equipped  for  travel.  He  glanced 
at  their  horses.  They  were  jaded,  evidencing  along  and  rapid 
ride  \ 

Without  hesitation,  he  spurred  his  horse  to  their  side. 

"  For  Capt.  Allen's  camp  ?" 

Startled,  they  looked  at  him — it  was  but  for  moment,  they  seem- 
ed to  understand  his  mission  as  if  by  intuition — and  bowed  as- 
sent. 

"  Where  is  it  situated  ?" 

"We  do»not  know,"  answered  the  elder  of  the  two  travelers,  a 
man  of  forty  years  of  age,  whom  we  shall  call  Mr.  Bryant,  "  nor 
have  we  dared  to  ask  any  one  we  have  met." 

"  You  do  not  live  in  the  vicinity,  then,  gentlemen?" 

"  We  have  come  from  Franklin  County  since  yesterday  evening, 
avoiding,  as  far  as  we  could,  all  public  roads,  lest,  we  might  per- 
chance fall  into  the  hands  of  the  Home  Guard.  These  are  dan- 
gerous times. for  Southern  men  to  be  traveling  in  the  direction  of 
Bowling  Green.     Have  you  no  idea  where  the  camp  is  ?" 

"  None." 

Just  then  the  travelers  passed  a  house  by  the  road-side.  The 
farmer  was  on  the  front  porch.  He  looked  for  a  moment  at  tho 
strangers,  stepped  out  and  bowed,  with  a  pleasant  smile.  Mr. 
Roberts  had  seen  many  such  travelers  in  the  last  two  weeks,  and 
he  full  well  understood  their  business. 

"He  looks  like  a  friend,  gentlemen.  I'll  trust  him,"  and 
Charley  reined  up  in  front  of  the  stile. 

"  We  are  seeking  for  Capt.  Jack  Allen's  camp,  sir.  Can  you 
direct  us  to  it  ?" 

"  Capt,  Allen  and  his  men  have  gone  to  Dixie,  my  friend— left 
night  before  last." 

"Is  it  possible  for  us  to  overtake  them,  sir?"  interposed  Mr. 
Bryant.     "  We  wish  to  go  through,  but  fear  to  set  out  alone," 

"  Have  you  no  guide,  gentlemen  ?" 

"  None,  sir." 

"  And  do  not  know  the  country  ?" 
2 


18  EAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

"  Never  have  passed  over  a  foot  of  the  way. 
.  "  Then,  sir,  it  would  be  attended  with  great  danger  tb  go  alone. 
There  is  a  regiment  of  Lincolnites  at  Lebanon,  another  at  New 
Haven,  and,  I  am  told,  the  Home  Guard  beyond  are  constantly 
seizing  every  one  whom  they  suspect  of  attempting  to  make  their 
way  to  Buckner." 

"What  shall  we  do?"  asked  Charley,  starting  from  his  chair, 
"  I  must  get  through  if  it  cost  me  my  life." 

f  You  must  all  remain  with  me,  gentlemen,  for  the  present," 
responded  Mr.  Roberts.  "  There  will  be.  some  recruits  here  in  a 
few  days,  I  am  told  a  company  of  men  from  one  of  the  adjoining 
counties.     You  can  go  through  with  them." 

"  Is  there  no  danger  in  doing  this?"  asked  Mr.  Bryant,  hur- 
riedly. 

"  None  in  the  world,  sir.  We  are  all  right  in  this  region^  You 
may  go  where  you  please,  and  say  and  do  what  you  please.  No 
spies  here  in  '  Dixie.'     Not  a  Lincoln  man  in  the  neighborhood." 

The  men  alighted,  and  at  the  kind  invitation  of  their  host,  seated 
themselves  before  a  good  smoking  breakfast. 

Our  young  hero  began  to  realize  that  there  were  difficulties  in  the 
path  to  glory.  But  he  was  not  a  whit  daunted.  Naturally  brave 
and  enduring,  with  a  love,  for  the  novel  and  exciting,  the  new- 
found trouble  but  heightened  his  zest  and  increased  the  interest  of 
the  undertaking.  He  chatted  pleasantly  of  the  risks  that  must 
every  where  beset  their  way,  and  reiterated  his  purpose  to  achieve 
his  object  or  perish  in  the  attempt.  It  was  soon  ascertained  he 
was  from  Louisville,  and  many  were  the  questions  asked  by  his 
new  friends  relative  to  the  state  of  affairs  in  that  noted  city. 

"  How  many  troops  have  passed  through  Louisville,  Mr.  R. 
since  Rosseau  brought  his  '  Kentucky  '  regiment  over  from  Jef- 
fersonville  ?"  asked  "the  host,  as  with  his  guests  he  assembled 
around  the  bright  wood  fire  in  the  best  room  of  the  house.  "  I 
happened  to  be  in  the  city  at  the  time  this  quasi-Kentucky  regi- 
ment inarched  through  on  their  way  to  Elizabethtown,  and,  really, 
if  all  of  Lincoln's  defenders  are  like  that  squad  of  jail-birds  and 
wharf-rats,  I  think  Gen.  Buckner  can  come  to  Louisville  whenever 
'he  gets  ready.  They  can  offer  but  poor  opposition.  Why,  I  tell 
you,  j.  entlemen,  there  was  scarcely  a  man  in  the  regiment  that 
could  hold  up  his  head." 

"  Several  regiments  of  Indianians  have  been  sent  forward  since 
then  to  join  Rousseau,  and  many  of  them  were  fine-looking  men. 
They  had  the;  air  of  men  who  can  and  will  fight.  I  fear,  sir, 
|*en.  Buckner  will  have  hard  work  to  get  to  our  city.  Troops  are 
now  being  sent  forward  daily." 

"Who  is  this  Col.  Rousseau?"  asked  the  younger  of  the  two 
men,  who  had  hitherto  taken  but  little  part  in  the  conversation^ 

"  He  has  been  figuring  in  Frankfort  far  the  past  few  months,  as  a 
member  of  the  Legislature.    I  have  met  him  there  frequently,  and 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  19 

have  several  times  hearu  him  speak.  He  seems  to  me  to  be  a 
coarse,  vulgar  man,  devoid  of  honesty  and  of  patriotism ;  desti- 
tute, indeed,  of  everything  but  bombast  and  selfishness." 

"  Why,  sir,"  interposed  Mr.  Roberts,  "  he  was  one  of  the  Cap- 
tains in  that  distinguished  Indiana  regiment  that,  ran  so  gloriously 
at  Buena  Vista.  You  remember  Jeff.  Davis  called  out  to  his  men 
to  open  their  ranks  and  let  the  flying  Hoosiers  pass,  and  then  huz- 
zaed, '  Come  on,  my  brave  boys,  let  us  retrieve  the  day.'  The 
cowardly  Hoosiers  then  vowed  vengeance  against  Col.  Davis,  and 
I  suppose  Rousseau  thinks  now  is  a  fine  time  to  pay  off  the  old 
score  ;  but  I  trow,  he  will  have  hard  work  to  wipe  out  the  disgrace 
of  that  day." 

"  Do  you  know  his  standing  in  Louisville,  Mr.  R.  V  interroga- 
ted the  young  man. 

"  He  commands  but  little  respect,  I  believe,  sir.  I  have  no 
personal  aequaintam  '  witli  him.  Indeed,  I  did  not  know  of  his 
presence  in  our  city  until  his  name  was  offered  for  the  State  Sen- 
ate. 1  have  heard,  since  then,  from  those  who  knew  his  status  at 
that  time,  that  lie  was  a  pettifogger,  noted  for  his  impudence  and 
coarseness;  a  hanger-on  at  the  Police  Court  and  around  the  Jail, 
making  a  penny  wherever  he  could.  If  a  low  case  was  to  be 
tried,  Rausteau  was  sure  to  be  connected  with  it ;  and  would 
often,  when  engaged  in  a  suit,  delay  trial  from  time  to  time,  in 
order  to  extract  money  from  bis  unfortunate  opponent  by  way  of 
compromise.  I  have  heard  it  said  he  would  suborn  witnesses — 
creatures  from  the  most  wretched  classes,  whom  he  appeared  to 
know  .well — and  with  these  as  his  tools,  together  with  his  bll 
and  audacity,  would  often  succeed,  where  a  more  honest  and  honor- 
able man  would  have  entirely  failed." 

"  But  how  was  he  elected  to  the  State  Senate — a  man  of  such  a 
character  I  Was  \t  not  a  disgrace  to  his  constituents  I"  inquired 
the  young  man,  who  appeared,  from  some  unknown  reason,  to  feel 
either  a  deep  interest  in  Rousseau,  or  an  eager  curiosity  to  ascer- 
tain his  past  history. 

"  There  was  a  vacancy  in  the  State  Senate,  caused  by  the  death 
of  one  of  its  members,  and  it  became  necessary  to  elect  a  man  to 
fill  the 'unexpired  term.  Rousseau  offered  himself ;  there  was  no 
opponent.  He  was  successful,  and  thus,  for  the  first  time  in  Ken- 
tucky, he  found  himself  in  position.  This  occurred  before  the 
Presidential  election.  The  frequent  called  sessions  of  the  Legis- 
lature, which  became  m  essary  from  the  distracted  state  of  the 
country,  and  in  which  he  has  ever  striven  to  make  himself  con- 
spicuous, for  '  loyalty,'  have  given  him  some  notoriety.  A  few 
months  ago»  he  solicited  a  commission  to  raise  a  regiment.  Of 
course  he  had  no  difficulty  in  obtaining  it,  as  he  was  introduced 
to  Lincoln  as  '  Capt.  Rousseau,'  who  had  fought  gallantly  in  the 
Mexican  War,  and  who  was  now  a  State  Senator  from  Kentucky. 
He  bore,  in  addition  to  this,  a  letter  of  recommendation  from  old 


20  EAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

Prentice,  with  whom  he  is  bosom  friend  at  drinking  saloons  and 
wine  parries.  His  zealous  advocacy  of  '  The  Government,'  as 
the  measures  of  the  Administration  are  now  denominated,  intro- 
duced him  to  the  President  as  a  Acting  instrument  to  carry  .out 
his  purposes  in  our  State. 

"  With  a  Colonel's  commission  in  his  pocket  he  returned  to 
Louisville,  and  by  ridding  the  cities  of  New  Albany  and  Jefferson- 
ville  of  the  outcast  and  outlawed  population,  he  has  secured  a  force 
with  which  he  hopes  to  add  fresh  laurels  to  his  wreath  in  his  patri- 
otic endeavors 'to  '  crush  out  this  wicked  rebellion.'  " 

"And  this  is  '  Colonel'  Rousseau's  history, -is  it?"  exclaimed 
Mr.  Roberts  ;  "  it  is  just  as  I  expected,  gentlemen.  I  have  always 
understood  his  character  was  doubtful,  but  I  had  not  known  how 
mere  circumstances  had  made  him  a  hero.  I  tell  you,  sirs,  that 
nine-tenths  of  these  Kentucky  Federal  officers  are  of  the  same 
stamp  with  Rousseau — little  men  without  one  whit  of  merit — made 
great  by  the  events  of  the  hour  and " 

A  loud  knock  vcas  heard  at  the  door.  Mr.  Roberts  arose  to  open 
it.  As  he  did  so,  he  encountered  a  man  of  medium  height,  dressed 
in  a  suit  of  dark-jeans.  Beside  him  was  a  youth  of  about  twenty 
years  of  age.     The  strangers  bowed,  bidding  him  "  Good  morning." 

"Walk  in  gentlemen,  walk  in,"  said  Mr.  Roberts,   throwing 
open  the  door  and  motioning  them  to  the  fire.  They  stepped  forward, 
descried  the  three  guests,  and  hesitated.     Mr.  R.  divining  their  rea-  . 
son  whispered  to  them — "  All  right,  no  danger,  these  are  friends." 

"  I  call,  Mr.  Roberts," .  said  the  elder  of  the  two,  before  taking 
the  proffered  chair,  "  to  ascertain  where  the  rendezvous  is  in  this 
neighborhood  for  Southern  men,  and  whether  there  is  any  proba- 
bility of  getting  through  to  Gen.  Buckner  from  this  point.  I  learn- 
ed in  Bldomfield  that  Capt,  Allen  had  left  a  few  days  since,  but 
apprehensive  that  some  difficulty  might  arise  from  further  question- 
ing on  this  subject,  I  did  not  make  known  to  my  informant  the 
object  of  my  inquiry." 

Mr.  Roberts,  in  a  few  words,  gave  the  desired  information  to 
the  gentlemen,  and  again  requested  them  to  be  seated.  They  were 
in  the  act  of  accepting  his  invitation,  when  another  rap  was  heard 
at  the  door.  The  guests  cast  meaning  glances  at  each  other,  several 
of  them  betrayed  evident  emotion.  i 

"  Do  not  be  alarmed,  sirs,"  said  Mr.  Roberts,  pleasantly,  ob- 
serving the  trepidation  of  some  of  his  guests.  "  Friends,  no  doubt," 
and  he  opened  the  door  and  ushered  in  the  three  newly  arrived 
strangers. 

"  Good-morning,  Capt.  Utterback  !"  exclaimed  the  eldest  of  the 
three,  a  man  of  about  forty  years  of  age,  with  a  very  pleasant, 
countenance,  a  noble  form,  and  a  slight  sprinkle  of  gray  mid  his 
black  hair,  as  he  approached  the  fireside,  and  grasped  the  hand  of 
one  of  the  men  who  rose  to  welcome  him.  "  We  have  overtaken 
you  at  last,  after  a  weary  ride  over  a  dreadful  road." 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  2! 

Capt.  Utterback  greeted  his  friends,  and  after  introducing  tliera 
to  the  gentlemen  present,  called  Mr.  Roberts  aside.  •  After  -a  few 
moment's  conversation  with  the  host,  he  returned  to  the  room,  and 
announced  to  his  men  his  readiness  to  leave. 

Charley  and  his  two  friends  understanding  that  the  Captain  was 
going  out  in  search  of  "  Camp  Secret,"  decided  to  accompany 
him. 

"  Any  danger  of  betrayal  from  our  numbers,  Mr.  Roberts  V  in- 
quired the  Captain. 

"  None,  sir,  none.    You  have  no  enemies  in  tins  region." 

The  men  mounted  their  horses  and  turned  into  the  road.  As 
they  did  so,  they  saw  approaching  them  from  the  direction  of  town 
a  group  of  four  horsemen,  followed  by  a  buggy  containing  an 
elderly  gentleman  and  a  servant  ;  and  yet  a  few  paces  in  the  rear, 
two  others,  whose  horses  looked  jaded  from  travel.  The  party 
halted.  • 

Capt.  U1  terbaok  looked  steadfastly  at  tuem  for  a  moment.  "  For 
camp,  gentlemen  ?  ' 

They  answered  in  the  affirmative. 

"  We  are  just  setting  out  for  that  point,"  pleasantly  remarked 
the  Captain,  "  and  if  you  will  receive  our  escort  we  shall  be  most 
ha]  py  tn  give  it  you." 

The  offered  favor-was  most  gladly  accepted,  and  the  men  wheel- 
ed into  line. 

Our  young  hero  was  excited  and  cheered  with  the  animated 
prospect.  Already  had  he  taken  position  beside  the  young  friend 
of  the  Captain. 

The  party  proceeded  on  the  public  road  about  two  miles  farther 
west  of  hloomrield,  when  suddenly  turning  to  the  right  of  the  high- 
way, they  passed  through  a  narrow  lane,  succeeded  by  an  open 
field,  then  across  a  small  stream,  into  a  dense  forest.  As  they 
were  about  to  enter,  they  were  accosted  by  armed  men. 

"  Who  goes  there  .'" 

"Friends  of  the  South,"  answered  Capt.  Utterback. 

"Pass  in  and  follow  the  road,  it  will  lead  you  to  camp,''  was 
the  response  of  the  guard. 

The  horsemen  entered.  Proceeding  a  few  hundred  yards,  they 
came  suddenly  upon  a  large  hollow,  studded  with  small  rail-pens, 
which  were  covered  with  straw.  "  This  is  •'  Camp  Secret,'  boys," 
said  the  Captain,  lifting  his  hat  and  giving  three  cheers  for  the 
South.  His  example  was  lustily  followed  by  the  men,  who  made 
the  old  woods  ring  -again  with  their  shouts.  A  few  moments  more, 
and  Charley  and  Ins  friends  found  themselves  "  in  Camp,"  for  the 
first  time.  They  saw  there  a  f«w  armed  men,  whose  business  it 
was  to  guard  the  place. 

There  were  new  arrivals  throughout  the  day,  of  groups  of  two 
and  three,  sometimes  more.     Some  were  on  horseback — some  on* 
foot — others  in  buggies.    By  evening,  the  camp  presented  a  very 


V 


22  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

animated  scene  ;  new  acquaintances  were  made,  adventures  related, 
jokes  passed — vengeance  against  the  Lincolnites  sworn  by  all. 

Baskets  of  nice  warm  dinner  mysteriously  appeared  in  their 
midst.  No  One  asked  whence  they  came.  It  was  enough  to  find 
them  there,  with  their  inviting  contents,  ready  to  appease  the 
quickened  appetite.  The  viands  were  spread  and  partaken  of  with 
right  good  zest ;  toasts  were  drank  to  the  downfall  of  the  Yankees 
and  the  success  of  the  South.  "  Sleeping  apartments  "  were  se- 
lected for  the  night,  straw  couches  arranged,  with  their  covering 
of  blankets  and  over-coats,  and  pillows  of  saddle-bags  and  carpet- 
sacks. 

"  Why,  how  do  you  do,  Mr.  Simrall,"  said  Charley,  as  a  solo 
horseman  rode  through  the  guard,  and  approached  where  he  was 
standing,  beside  young  Wickliffe,  of  Bardstown,  the  two  engaged 
in  earnest  conversation. 

"  Why,  how  do  you  do,  Charley.  I  did  not  expect  to  find  you 
here.  '  On  your  way  to  Dixie,  I  suppose." 

"  Yes,  sir  j  going  out  to  fight  for  the  South.  Will  you  not  join 
our  company,  Mr.  Simrall  V 

"  Oh,  yes,  Charley.  I  have  set  my  face  towards  the  Sunny 
South,  to  link  my  destiny  witlf  her's,  whether  it  be  for  weal  or  for 
woe." 

Mr.  Simrall  dismounted,  and  leading  his  horse  some  paces  from 
where  the  two  young  men  were  resting,  secured  him  to  a  small 
ash  tree,  then  approaching  a  group  of  men  who  were  standing  in 
the  inclosure  formed  by  rail-peas,  he  made  some  inquiries  relative 
to  the  preparations  necessary  for  the  night,  and  the  probable  stay 
of  the  men  at  "Camp. Secret," 

An  hour  afterwards,  as  Charley  and  young  Wickliffe,  who  al- 
ready found  each  other  agreeable  companions,  were  seated  on  an 
old  log  talking  over  the  prospects  before  them,  which  spread  out 
in  fair  enchanting  colors  to  their  youthful  and  now  highly  excited 
imagination,  they  observed  four  horsemen  dash  into  camp. 

One  was  slightly  in  advance  of  the  others.  He  was  about  me- 
dium height,  well-formed,  and  sat  his  horse  with  an  elegance  not 
often  equalled  even  by  the  best  riders.  Every  feature  of  his  face 
«  bespoke  daring  and  determination.-  His  moustache  was  trimmed 
with  exquisite  precision.  The  suit  of  dark  jeans  was  fitted  to  his 
handsome  form,  and  the  immaculate  shirt  collar,  turned  over  the 
narrow  black  neck-tie,  contrasted  well  with  the  bosom  of  dark 
flannel. 

As  he  rode  forward  to  the  group  he  lifted  his  hat  and  spoke. 

There  was  manly  dignity,  combined  with  graceful  ease  in  the 

movement.    His  mariner  fixed  the  attention  of  our  young  hero, 

who  felt,  he  scarce  knew  why,  an  irresistible  impulse  to  move  for- 

.  ward  towards  the  stranger.    He  did  so,  followed  by  Mr.  Simrall 

*  and  young  Wickliffe. 

On  approaching  nearer,  Mr.  Wickliffe  recognized  the  stranger — 
it  was  John  H.  Morgan,  of  Lexington. 


OF  MORGA.N  AND  HIS  MEN.  23 


CHAPTER  IV. 


FIRS  T     C A  PTUR  KS 


Very  soon  after  the  arrival  of  Capt.  Morgan  and  his;  men  in 
camp,  young  Wickliffe  topk  him  aside,  and  the  two  engaged  for 
some  minutes  in  earnest  conversation. 

"  An  excellent  idea.  Mr.  WiokHffe.  The  men  will  tlien  all  he 
wetl  armed,  and  we  will  be  more  likely  to  cut  our  way  through  if 
attacked.  You  are  familiar  with  the  cross  route,  and  will  lead  the 
expedition?" 

"Know  every  foot  of  the  road,  Capt.  Morgan.  Have  traveled 
it  many  a  time  when  I  was  a  hoy,  after  rabbits  and  squirrels,  and 
nothing  would  please  me  better  than  to  capture  the  Home  Guard, 
dastardly  wretches!  and  give  them  safe  lodgment  in  •  Gamp  Se- 
cret* for  a  few  days.  It  would  dissipate  their  patriotism,  I  tell 
you  sir." 

Several  others,  among  them  Oapt.  (Jtterbaet,  Basil  Duke  and 
young  Curd,  who  had  accompanied  Morgan  from  Lexington,  and 
Capt.  Miner  were  called,  and  the  matter  laid  before  them.  The 
plan  was  highly  approved  by  them  all  ;  and  another  expedition,  for 
a  similar  purpose,  was  set  on  foot,  to  he  carried  out  by  the  Ander- 
son County  hoys,  headed  by  Duke  and  Curd.  Twenty-five  men 
were  chosen  for  the  dash  upon  Lawrenoeburg,  and  thirty -five  10  ac- 
company Cris.  Wickliffe,  the  latter  undertaking  being  regarded  as 
far  more  hazardous.  Anting  this  numher  was  Charley,  wh^  was 
eager  for  an  adventure. 

Every  thing  was  ae  speedily  and  quietly  arranged  as  it  w  -.  pos- 
sible. A  strong  spring  wagon,  which  Capt  Morgan's  men  had 
brought  through  from  Lexington,  was  detailed  for  the  ente  prise 
to  Bardstown  to  bring  into  camp  the  captured  guns.  It  was  de- 
cided that  the  expedition  to  Lawrencebnrg  should  go  unarmed, 
with  the  exception  of  a  few  good  marksmen,  that  the  men  might 
bring  their  trophies  with  them. 

Duke  and  his  men  set  out  as  soon  as  the  darkness  of  the  night 
veiled  their  movements.  About  an  hour  and  a  half  later,  young 
Wickliffe,  with  his  thirty-five  followers,  armed  to  the  teeth,  left  the 
camp  and  struck  out  into  the  country.  On  and  on  they  went, 
through  farms  and  lanes,  as  fast  as  the  rough  nature  of  the  road 
would  allow,  until  they  reached  the  turnpike  leading  into  the  town 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  piace.  It  was  midnight  and  a-  lark 
as  Erebus.  No  moon  gave  her  light,  and  the  stars  were  si  it  in 
by  heavy  black  clouds.  Not  a  sound  was'heard,  save  that  made 
by  the  tramping  horsemen. 


24  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

"  We  must  be  as  noiseless  as  the  tomb,"  said  young  Wickliffe 
to  Charley  who  rode  beside  him.  "  Every  thing  must  be  done 
with  the  utmost  quiet,  for  if  we  are  betrayed  in  this  matter  we  shall 
be  captured  after  we  set  out  from  Camp  Secret." 

They  proceeded  in  groups  of  four  or  five  on  the  grass-grown 
paths  by  the  roadside — the  wagon  keeping  a  respectful  distance  in 
the  rear — until  they  reached  the  edge  of  the  town. 

The  men  were  then  halted,  and  Chris.  Wickliffe,  with  two  others, 
dismounted  and  set  out  to  reconnoiter.  They  proceeded  very  cau- 
tiously to  the  guard-house,  .where  were  deposited  about  one  hun- 
dred Lincoln  guns,  which  had  been  clandestinely  introduced  into 
the  State. 

"Who  goes  there?"  called  out  the  drowsy  watchman,  as  the 
sound  of  approaching  footsteps  roused  him  from  his  unquiet  slum- 
bers. 

No  answer  was  made.     The  men  advauced. 

"  Halt !  Who  are  you?"  cried  the  alarmed  sentinel,  as  he  seized 
his  gun  aud  presented  it. 

"  A  friend,"  answered  Wickliffe,  disguising  his  voice.  "  1  come 
with  a  command." 

The  sentinel  lowered  his  gun.  Its  clash  on  the  pavement  de- 
fined its  position.  Quick  as  .thought  young  Wickliffe  seized  it, 
while  his  companion  took  the  man  in  charge. 

■ "  Not  a  word,  or  your  life  pays  the  forfeit."  The  fellow  hushed 
his  breathing  as  he  felt  the  muzzle  of  the  pistol  at  his  head. 

"Now  tell  me,"  demanded  Wickliffe,  of  his  quaking  prisoner* 
"  how  many  guns  are  here  and  how  can  I  get  them." 

The  information  was  readily  given,  the  man  feeling  that  thereby 
he  might  purchase  his  life. 

The  three  with  their  prisoner  returned  to  the  men  who  were  in 
waiting.  Ten  of  the  company,  headed  by  Wickliffe  and  Charley, 
and  followed  by  the  wagon,  returned  Jo  vthe  guard-house,  effected 
an  entrance,  and  secured  the  hundred  guns,  loaded  the  wagon,  and 
iu  triumph  rejoined  their  companions. 

It  was  daylight  when  the  victorious  party  returned  to  camp, 
bearing  with  them  their  poor,  affrighted  prisoner.  A  loud  huzza 
went  up  as  they  rode  in  with  their  trophies. 

Young  Wickliffe  and  his  men  were  all  heroes,  and  many  a  mess 
was  enlivened  that  morning  with  a  recital  of  their  adventures. 

The  expedition  to  Lawrenceburg  was  equally  successful,  and  in 
a  little  while  the  whole  camp  rang  out  in  loud  welcome  as  Duke's 
party  entered,  laden  with  their  spoils.  Each  man  had  two,  and 
gome  as  many  as  three  guns,  the  reward  of  their  daring.  They 
had  captured  sixty -five  pieces,  and  the  little  camp  found  itself  in 
possession  of  arms  enough  for  all  its  unarmed  men,  and  some  to 
spare. 

Thus  handsomely  equipped,  and  fearing  that  every  moment's 
delay  added  to  the  hazard  of  the  risk  before  them,  it  was  decided 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  25 

to  make  Immediate  arrangements  for  setting  out  to  join  Buckner. 
After  a  few  minutes'  consultation  it  was  unanimously  agreed,  by 
both  soldiers  and  civilians,  that  John  H.  Morgan  should  lead  the 
expedition.  The  position  was  accorded,  as  if  by  intuition,  to  the 
young  and  gallant  Captain,  and  the  promptness  of  his  accept- 
ance, and  the  ease  with  which  he  at  once  assumed  the  responsi- 
ble position,''  gave  evidence  that  he  was  "  born  to  command." 
Throughout  the  day  recruits  were  constantly  coming  in,  until  the 
number  in  camp  was  augmented  to  four  huncred.  Capt.  Morgan 
decided  to  set  out  that  evening,  about  sun-down,  travel  all  night, 
and  rest  in  some  secluded  spot  through  the  next  day,  if  it  should 
be  found  impracticable  to  proceed  on  their  journey. 

During  the  day,  a  Louisville  Journal  was  brought  iato  camp  by 
a  friend  from  Bloomfield.  The  men  gathered  round  to  hear  it 
read.  They  had  been  for  two  days  shut  in  from  the  stirring  events 
of  the  seething  world  without; 

"List,  boys,"  called  out  Mr.  Leach,  as  his  eye  ran  down  the  news 
column.     "  Here's  is  a  striking  morsel  of  intelligence  for  us." 

Pausing  a  moment  for  the  noise  of  merriment  to  subside,  he  ele- 
vated his  voice  to  its  highest  tone,  and  with  great  gravity  read  the 
following  announcement  in  Prentice's  own  words  : 

"  Carture  of  Joh.\  Morgan — John  Morgan,  Captain  of  a  lit- 
tle secession  company  at  Lexington,  Ky.,  with  his  men.  was  cap- 
tured by  the  liome  Guard,  on  their  way  to  Dixie,  iu  search  of  their 
rights.  They  are  now  on  the  route  to  Frankfor',  where  we  hope 
they  will  find  their  rights  and  enjoy  them  to  the  fullest  extent." 

"  Well,  John,  your  ruse  has  succeeded  admirably,"  said  Duke 
to  the  Captain,  slapping  him  on  the  shoulder,  aud  breaking  out  into 
a  hearty  laugh,  in  which  he  was  joined  by  all  present.  "  Prentice 
is  deceived  this  time,  and  we  are  safe.  You  could  not  have  made 
a  more  capital  hit." 


CHAPTER  V. 


•  ETTIITO    OUT    FROM    CAMF*  SECRET. 

It  was  four  o'clock  in  the. evening  of  the  2Sth  of  September, 
1861.  The  busy  preparations  for  the  march  which  throughout  the 
day  had  occupied  the  camp,  were  over.  And  the  force  which  for 
four  days  been  quietly  assembling  at  "Camp  Secret"  were  in  line, 


26  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

ready  to  move.  They  were  about  four  hundred  strong.  Two- 
thirds  of  the  number  were  mounted,  the  remainder  on  foot.  But 
all  were  well  armed. 

And  there  they  stood,  a  band  of  noble  patriots,  headed  by  their 
brave  and  daring  Captain.  They' were  leaving  home  and  friends —  . 
all  that  made  life  dear  to  them— to  espouse  a  cause  which  the  pop- 
ular voice  pronounced  infamous  and  hopeless.  Branded  as  traitors 
by  the  Legislature  of  their  own  State,  frowned  upon  by  public  sen- 
timent,— doomed,  in  the  event  of  failure,  to  the  felon's  cell.  No 
roll  of  drum  or  stirring  fife  to  nerve  their  hearts  to  martial  deeds- — 
no  waving  flag,  presented  amid  the  cheers  and  loud  acclaim  of  an 
excited  multitude,  to  lead  them  on  to  glorious  victory — no  "  God 
speeds  "  rung  out  on  the  tumultuous  air  from  friends  and  fellow- 
countrymen — :nought,  nought,  save  the  blessings  and  tears  of  kind- 
ly sympathy  of  the  few  females  of  the  neighborhood,  wjio  had  gath- 
ered to  witness  their  departure. 

Their  pathway  was  beset  with  direst  danger.  An  armed  foe 
before  and  around  them,  vigilant  for  their  capture — a  country  fo 
pass  through  almost  impracticable  to  travel — no  prospect  of  pay, 
rations,  or  clothing — the  cause  they  sought  feeble,  struggling,  ap-  - 
parently  hopeless — what  had  these  men  to  nerve  them  to  the  un- 
dertaking? Simply  this  heaven-bestowed  motive :  they  believed 
they  were  right;  their  cause  just,  and  thus  believing,  they  could  do 
and  dare,  suffer  and  die,  rather  than  be  crushed  beneath  the  frag- 
ments of  a  broken  Constitution,  rent  by  the  hand  of  a  vulgar  despot, 

Say  you  such  men  can  be  conquered  1  It  is  impossible.  Fanat- 
icism and  fiendishness  may  hurl  their  wild  and  lawless  hordes  of 
armed  minions  against  them,  but  they  will  be  scattered,  blasted ; 
and,  like  the  mighty  hosts  of  Egypt's  proud  monarch,  perish  in 
their  heaven-doomed. undertaking. 

The  word  of  command  was  given,  "  Forward  march !"  A  gen- 
eral movement  followed  the  command,  and  from  the  infantry  a 
voice  rang  out  in  notes  of  sweet  and  clear, 

"  Cheer,  boys,  cheer;  we  march  away  to  battle !" 

Voice  after  voice  caught  up  the  measure,  until  throughout  the 
ranks  there  pealed  one  loud,  harmonious  strain.  Handkerchiefs 
were  waved  in  response  from  the  group  of  weeping  females  ;  and 
silent  prayers  offered  there  for  their  success  have  found  answer  in 
a  hundred  victorious  conflicts  since. 

Slowly  they  crossed  the  silvery  stream  that  bounded  their  camp 
in  front.  Casting  one  look  of  parting  on  this  rendezvous  of  patri- 
otism, they  defiled  into  the  narrow  lane  that  led  into  the  main 
road. 

As  the  strains  of  the  chorus  died  out,  a  voice  caught  up  the 
words, 

"  Though  to  our  homes  we  never  may  return, 
Ne'er  clasp  again  our  loved  ones  to  our  arms,  » 

O'er  our  lone  grave  Borne  faithful  heart  will  mourn, 
Then  cheer,  boys,  cheer;  such  death  hath  no  alarms." 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  M 

In  buggies  and  on  horseback,  in  the  rear  of  this  band  of  true- 
hearted  men,  followed  a  number  of  citizens.  Doomed  for  opin- 
ion's sake,  by  the  tyrant  at  Washington,  seconded  by  the  treach- 
erous sycophants  of  their  own  State,  they  were  going  out  in  sad- 
ness from  the  bosom  of  their  families,  preferring  the  sorrows  of 
exile  to  the  horrors  of  imprisonment  or  the  ignominy  of  a  base 
oath  extorted  from  them  by  cruel  violence. 

Many  a  manly  heart  heaved  with  deep  emotion,  and  many  An 
eye  all  unused  to  weep,  was  bedewed  with  tears  as  the  thoughts  of 
home,  with  its  helpless  inmates,  soon  to  be  the  prey  of  a  base  foe, 
rose  up  before  the  mind  of  the  father  and  brother.  Did  not  the 
pitying  eye  of  the  Lord  Jehovah  look  down  upon  this  brave  band 
of  patriots,  and  have  not  the  wrongs  these  freemen  then  endured 
come  up  before  him  in  remembrance,  when  defeat  and  panic  and 
route  have  overtaken  the  insolent  oppressor. 

Pickets  had  been  thrown  out  on  the  Bardstown  pike  six  miles 
ahead.  The  intervening  country  was  friendly,  and  as  the  column 
moved  on  by  the  few  farm  houses  that  stood  on  their  route,  sunny- 
faced  children,  with  smiling  matrons,  waved  them  a  blessing  and 
loudly  cheered  for  "  Jeff.  Davis  and  Bucknef." 

The  column  neared  the  Bardstown  turnpike.  It  was  expected 
that  an  encounter  would  take  place  with  the  Home  Guard  at  this 
point.  But  when  Captu  Morgan  reached  the  road,  he  found  it  in 
possession  of  his  pickets,  who  reported  the  way  entirely  clear. 
Falling  into  this  road,  they  proceeded  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile, 
then  suddenly  debouched  to  the  right,  and  entered  upon  what  is 
known  as  the  New  Hope  road.  The  folds  of  nigh{  gathered  over 
them  as  they  took  up  their  line  of  march  along  this  rough  broken 
route ;  and,  enveloped  in  the  darkness  of  a  starless  night,  they 
felt  secure  from  all  danger  of  the  enemy. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE   FIRST    NIGHT'S   TRAVEL. 


As  we  have  said,  it  was  rayless  darkness.  Thick  clouds  covered 
the  face  of  the  heavens.  The  country  was  hilly,  and  at  every 
step  of  advance,  the  road  grew  more  difficult.  It  was  hard,  rough 
work  for  these  men,  all  unaccustomed  to  midnight  marching. 
But  their  guide — "  Kit  Carson,"  as  he  had  dubbed  himself — knew 
every  step  of  tffe  way,  was  fully  acquainted  with  every  turn,  hill 


21  EAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

and  stream,  and  every  p  oint  likely  to  be  occupied  by  Home 
Guard,  and  under  his  direction  the  column  moved  safely  on. — 
Capt.  Morgan  was  untiring  in  his  endeavors  to  avoid  difficulties 
and  cheer  the  men,  frequently  passing  along  the  entire  lines  to  see 
that  all  was  right. 

Charley  had  found  a  very  agreeable  companion  in  young  Wood, 
of  Nelson  couuty,  and  the  two. youthful  heroes  whiled  away  the 
dark  and  chill  night  hours  in  hopeful  lookouts  into  their  future* 
aud  scathing  comments  on  a  perjured  administration,  which,  under 
the  name  of  "the  best  government  in  the  world,"  was  rapidly 
sweeping  away  every  bulwark  of  liberty. 

The  road,  which  was  scarcely  more  than  a  bridle  path,  lined  on 
either  side  by  thick  underbrush,  interspersed  with  gigantic  trees, 
was  in  many  parts  almost  impassable.  It  was  'difficult  for  the 
mounted  men.  Those  on  foot  often  lost  their  way  and  straggled 
into  the  brush,  while  a  hapless  buggy,  unfortunately  veering  to 
the  right  or  left,  found  itself  suddenly  brought  to  a  stand  still  by 
a  tree  or  a  clump  of  scraggy  blackjacks,  and  the  only. alternative 
was  for  the  footmen  to  lift  the  vehicle  back  into  the  narrow  road, 
as  there  was  no  range  in  which  to  turn. 

A  man  of  the  party  was  endeavoring  to  take  through  a  lot  of 
twenty-five  mules.  When  day  dawned  he  found  himself  with 
only  three  of  the  pesky  creatures  left.    . 

There  was  an  old  man  in  company,  Mr.  Johnson,  of  Arkansas, 
who  afforded  great  amusement  to  those  in  his  immediate  vicinity. 
He  bad  been  spending  the  summer  in  Kentucky,  and  delaying  too 
long,  had  been  caught  by  the  blockade- of  the  railroad,  and  was 
driven  to  seek  his  home  by  this  dreadful  route.  The  old  gentle- 
man was  out  of  health,  impatient,  and  wicked.- 

He  was  driven  by  his  servant  man  Bob,  a  boy  the  old  gentle- 
man prized  highly.  Bob  knew  his  master's  peculiarities  and  how 
to  humor  his  fits  of  passion. 

As  the  difficulties  increased  the  old  man  grew  more  and  more 
excited,  then  petulant,  and  finally,  unable  to  restrain  his  wratb 
longer,  he  bursts  forth  into  a  most  furious  invective  against  all 
living  flesh.  Just  at  this  juncture  the  horse  made  a  misstep,  the 
buggy  struck  a  tremendous  rock,  the  old  man  was  unseated,  and 
had  not  Bob  caught  him,  he  would  hare  been  dashed  headlong 
from  the  vehicle. 

"  I  wish  to  God  Jeff  Davis,  Abe  Lincoln,  and  all  the  cussed 
politicians — yes,  and  the  whole  world,  was  miles  deep  in  hell,"  he 
exclaimed,  in  the  very  fullness  of  his  phrenzy. 

"  Oh,  my  dear  sir,  don't,  J/beseech  you,  place  us  in  that  horrid 
region,"  called  out  his  fellow-traveler,  in  advance,  highly  amused 
at  the  fidgety  old  Southerner.  "  I  have  left  a  wife  and  children 
in  Louisville,  sir,  and  I  do  hope  they  will  be  spared  this  dreadful 
fate." 

The  old  man  could  not  be  appeased.  He  continued  to  pour 
anathema  maranathemas  on  all  creation. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  29 

About  midnight  Capt.  Morgan  rode  along  the  lines,  announcing 
the  approach  to  the  Rolling  Fprk,  a  deep  and  rocky  stream,  the 
passage  of  which  would  be  attended  with  delay,  perhaps  with  dif- 
ficulty and  danger.  When  old  Mr.  Johnson  heard  this,  he  seized 
the  reins,  drew  himself  up  to  the  fullest  height,  and  "  swore  he 
would  never  die  content  until  every  man  who  had  brought  about 
this  cussed  state  of  affairs  had  had  his  head  taken  off  smack  and 
smooth." 

"Now  Bob,  I  tell  you,  boy,"  he  said  most  emphatically,  as  he 
handed  Boh  the.  lines,  "if  you  do  drown  me.  Boh,  I'll  shoot  you. 
Do  you  hear  me,  Bob,  Hold  your  reins  tight,  and  follow  close  to 
that  buggy. 

"  Yes,  sar,  yes,  sar,  master  ;  I'll  take  you  through  safe,  sar.  If 
any  body  cm  git  you  through,  Bob  can.  Don't  be  skeered,  mas- 
ic  r :   I'll  gil  you  through,  sar." 

The  Rolling  Fork  is  a  branch  of  "old  Salt  River — as  it  is 
generally  called — that  stream'  so  famed  in  Kentucky's  annals,  of 
which   pocks  have  sung  and  politicians  jested. 

The  "  Fork  "  is  a  deep  and  fearful  current,  and  at  the  point 
where  the  column  had  to  cross  it,  a  high  hill  rises  abruptly  on  the 
southern  hank.  Fights  had  been  placed  by  friendly  hands  on  each 
side  of  the  stream  to  guide  the  men  in  their  passage.  The  blazing 
pine  knots  threw  a  vivid  glare  over  the  dark  and  sullen  water-, 
and  gave  the  outline  of  the  frowning  hill  in  front. 

"  Halt,"  rang  out  through  the  lines.  Footmen  were  ordered  to 
mount  behind  the  men  on  horseback  that  there  might  he  no  unne- 
cessary delay.  Capt. Morgan  rode  to  the  rear  to  see  thai  all  was 
in  readiness.  Gaining  the  front,  he  ordered  the  gufcle  to  advance. 
Kit  Carson  plunged  into  the  stream  and  reached  the  opposite 
bank.  Capt.  Morgan  and  Lieut.  Duke  followed.  "  Ad  van  i 
and  horseman  following  horseman,  dashed  in  and  crossed  over. 
Now  came  the  buggies.  <  apt.  Morgan  returned  to  the  middle  of 
the  stream  and  remained  there  to  direct  their  movements. 

At  last  old  Mr.  Johnson's  time  came.  With  fierce  and  loud 
imprecations  he  essayed  to  follow.  Midway  the  stream,  his  horse 
losing  his  footing,  plunged  furiously. 

"  Oh  !  my  God  !  I'm  gone  !  I'm  gone !  Bob,  if  I  am  drowned 
I'll  have  you  hung.  Do  you  hear  that,  boy?  Hold  that  horse, 
or  we'll  be  at  the  bottom  of  this  cussed  creek  in  a  minute." 

A  loud  peal  of  laughter  rang  from  the  shore  as  the  old  man, 
with  these  lasi  words  on  his  lips,  emerged,  wheezing  and  puffing 
from'  the  "  cussed  stream." 

Tiie  road  was  so  steep  and  rocky  that  horses  had  to  be  taken 
from  the  provision  wagons,  and  the  wagons  lifted  by  the  men  to 
the  brow  of  the  hill. 

l!ol),  with  the  assistance  of  others,  succeeded  in  getting  bis 
master  over  all  immediate  difficulties,  the  old  man  screaming  out 
all  the  time*  "Now,  Bob,  if  you  do  kill  me,  I'll  have  you  hung, 
boy.     Do  you  hear  that,  Bob  ?  " 


30  RAIDS  AND  EOMANCE 

The  road  was  now  worse  than  ever.  They  had  struck^a  spur 
of- the  ridge,  of  which  Muldrough's  Hill  is  the  most  noted.  On 
they  went  as  fast  as  the  nature  of  the  route  would  admit,  nothing 
of  interest  occurring  until  about  3  o'clock  in  the  morning,  when 
Capt.  Morgan  dashed  along  the  lines,  bidding  the  men  be  silent, 
not  to  speak  above  a  whisper,  as  it  was  feared  they  were  in  the 
neighborhood  of  some  Home  Guard  pickets. 
■  The  column  was  halted,  scouts  were  thrown  out  in  advance, 
headed  by  Capt.  Morgan  and  led  by  Kit  Carson. 

After  a  hasty  reconnoissance,  they  returned  ?nd  reported,  "  No 
danger."  .  The  way  was  now  supposed  clear  of  all  obstacles,  and 
-as  the  road  improved,  they  quickened  their  pace.  . 

At  daylight  they  crossed  the  Lebanon  branch  of  the  railroad. 
It  was  expected  to  have  a  skirmish  here  with  the  Guard,  who  had 
captured  six  of  Capt.  Jack  Allen's  company  at  this  point  a  few 
day's  before.  But  not  a  soul  was  seen  up  and  down  the  road  as 
far  as  the  eye  could  reach. 

In  three  hours  more  they  Were  in  the  neighborhood  of  friends, 
wheie  they  halted  to  refresh  themselves  and  feed  their  horses.  It 
was  found  that  three  men  were  missing  from  their  number.  What 
befel  them  could  never  be  ascertained.  The  party  was  now  be- 
yond the  enemy's  lines. 

That  night  they  encamped  near  Hodgenville,  in  La  Rue  county. 
As  this  was  a  hostile  section,  they  found  great  difficulty  in  procur- 
ing food  for  themselves  and  horses.  They  succeeded  in  purchasing 
some  corn  bread  and  meat,  which  added  to  their  stock,  on  hand, 
served  to  stay  their  appetite  for  the  night. 

Early  the  next  morning  (Monday)'  they  set  out  for  thie  Confed- 
erate encampment  on  Green  River,  opposite  Mumfordsville.  And 
as  they  felt  themselves  freed  from  all  apprehensions  of  attack, 
each  one  breathed  more  freely,  and  joke  and  laugh  resounded  along 
the  ranks  of  those  weary  yet  determined  men. 

Not  knowing  but  that  a  force  of  the  enemy  might  endeavor  to 
capture  him  in  the  vicinity  of  Green  River,  Capt.  Morgan  very 
wisely  sent  forward  videttes  to  see  that  the  route  was  clear.  It 
had  become  known  in  the  Confederate  encampment,  situated  on 
the  south  bank  of  the  river,  that  Morgan  and  his  men  would  reach 
the  river  that  evening,  and  it  bad  been  decided  to  send  out  an 
escort  to  conduct  them  in.  Accordingly,  Major  Wintersmith,  with 
two  others,  crossed  the  river  and  proceeded  a  few  miles  in  the 
direction  of  the  expected  advance.  They  had  rode  but  a  short 
distance,  before  they  perceived  two  men  approaching  them.  They 
were  well  mounted,  and  their  guns  were  depending  carelessly  from 
their  shoulder.  «> 

"  Halt !  "  cried  out  the  Major,  as  soon  as  he  was  sufficiently  near 
to  make  himself  heard. 

The  men  thus  accosted  reined  in  their  horses,  dropped  their 
bridles,  seized  their  guns,  and  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  were' 
ready  to  fire  upon  their  supposed  enemy. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  31 

"  Friends  !  "  cried  out  the  Major,  just  in  time  to  save  himself 
and  companion  from  the  unerring  bullet  of  the  riflemen.  "  We 
come  to  meet  Capt.  Morgan." 

Instantly  the  guns  were  lowered,  and  the  two  rode  forward.  A 
moment  more,  and  the  parties  had  alighted,  hands  were  grasped  in 
friendly  greeting,  and  welcomes  extended  in  the  name  of  the  2d 
Kentucky — Col.  Hanson's  noted  regiment — to  Capt.  Morgan  and 
his  brave  followers. 

An  hour  more,  and  the  whole  force  had  crossed  the  river,  and  in 
a  style  at  once  dashing  and  impressive,  rode  into  camp. 

Loud  and  long  and  pealing  were  the  shouts  of  welcome  sent  up 
by  the  Kentucky  boys,  as  they  beheld  this  large  reinforcement  to 
their  numbers.  Hats  were  flung  high  in  the  air,  and  their  cl  • 
for  old  Kentucky  echoed  and  re-echoed  along  those  grand  old  hills, 
while  "  Cheer,  boys,  cheer," — their  battle  song — burst  in  joyous 
iotea  from  groups  gathered  around  the  newly  arrived  friends. 

There  were  stationed  at  this  point,  in  addition  to  OoL  Hanson's 
regiment,  Captain  Jack  Allen  and  his  men,  besides  hundreds  of 
others  who  had  found  their  way  thither,  froui  different  parts  of  the 

State. 

Charley  recognized  fn  Col.  Hanson's  regiment  many  of  his  old 
friends  who  had  left  Louisville  some  months  before,  for  Camp 
Boone,  among  them  Adjutant  Frank  Tryon,  young  Benedict  and 
Delph,  who  hailed  his  arrival  with  open  arms. 

Our  young  hero,  eager  for  an  opportunity  to  serve  his  country's 
cause,  soon  enlisted  in  Company  C,  of  the  2d  Kentucky,  and  en- 
tered immediately  upop  the  duties  of  a  soldier.  Others  joined  the 
same  regiment,  while  most  of  the  men  found  their  way  into  the 
regiments  of  Colonels  Hunt  and  Lewi-*. 

Capt.  Morgan  and  his  company  of  forty  men  did  not  unite  them- 
selves to  any  command.  Morgan  wished  to  act  as  a  partisan 
ranger,  and  addressed  Gen.  Buckner  a  note,  asking  to  be  allowed 
to  serve  in  this  capacity.  But  it  not  being  deemed  prudent  to 
grant  the  request,  and  Morgan,  not  wishing  to  be  a  burden  to  the 
cause,  moved  his  men  to  the  north  bank  of  the  river,  rented  a 
vacant  house  for  them,  and  provided  for  all  their  wants.  With 
this  as  his  headquarters,  he  made  the  country  between  Green  River 
and  Bacon  Creek  the  scene  of  many  a  daring  exploit,  which  his- 
tory will  yet  record  to  the  honor  of  John  Morgan,  Kentucky's 
noblest  chieftain. 


32  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 


CHAPTER  VII.  •    ' 

THE    I8CAPE    OF    MORGAN    AND    HIS    MEN    FROM    LEXINGTON,    AS 
GIVEN    BY   ONE    OF    THK    PARTY. 


Camp-fires'' were  blazing  brightly.  The  cold  and  silent  stars 
looked  out  from  their  far  off  blue  home  in  heaven  upon  the  quiet 
scene.  The  soft  moonlight  kissed  the  cold  earth  and  lay  in  sil- 
very sheets  of  beauty  on  the  bosom  of  the  gently  stealing  river. 
Silence  had  thrown  its  deep  spell  on  every  object,  only  broken  at 
long  intervals  by  the  low  monotone  of  the  watch  dog. 

Two  men  threw  themselves  beneath  a  large  tree  in  front  of  a 
tent  door,  near  one  of  the  camp  fires. 

"I  will  tell  you,  Will,  the  whole  story,"  was  the  reply  of  the 
younger  to  the  question  of  his  frieud.  "  We  have  had  a  hard  time 
getting  through  to  join  this  Southern  cause,  and  I  think  with  Mor- 
gan we  have  a  right  to  serve  it  as  we  think  best.  We  had  a  com- 
pany of  sixty  men,  well  drilled  and  well  armed.  John  Morgan 
was  our  Captain,  and  Basil, Duke,  whom  you  have  seen  with  us 
here,  was  First  Lieutenant.  Our  intention  was  to  serve  our  State. 
To  drive  from  her  borders  any  foe  that  dared,  invade  h§r  soil. 
An  order  came  to  disarm  the  State  GuartV  We  had  long  been 
objects  of  suspicion  by  blinded  Union  men,  who  had  in  various 
epithets  conferred  upon  us,  spoken  out  their  disapprobation  of  our 
course.  The  Home  Guard,  under  a  Capt.  Woodson  Price,  who  was 
more  distinguished  for  his  artistic  taste,  being  a  second  rate  por- 
trait painter,  than  good  sense,' had  uttered  base  threats  against  us. 
This,  of  course,  we.  did  not  heed.  But  when  that  infamous  craven 
Legislature  at  Frankfort  invited  Anderson  into  Kentucky,  and 
placed  Crittenden  in  command  of  the  militia  of  the  State,  we  saw 
what  awaited  all  Southern  men.  Our  company,  of  course,  disband- 
ed to  avoid  suspicion.  As  soon  as  Gen.  Buckner  reached  Bowling 
Green,  Capt.  Mergan  decided  to  join  him.  He  made  his  purpose 
known  to  as  many  as  he  could  meet,  and  they  to  others.  It  was 
assented  to  by  a  large  majority.  Preparations  for  leaving  were 
secretly  made.  Each  man  had  secured  his  gun  and  determined 
never  to  yield  it,  though  he  should  die  for  refusing  to  do  so. 

"  We  met  at  our  secret  rendezvous  from  night  to  night,  and  re- 
ported progress.  It  was  deemed  most  prudent  to  leave  the  city 
in  companies  of  two  or  three,  at  different  hours  and  by  different 
routes,  thus  avoiding  observation.  We  assembled  at  Lawrenceburg. 
Our  arrangements  for  provisions  were  entrusted  to  one  of  the  com- 
pany whom  we  knew  to  possess  remarkable  spirit  and  tapt.    As 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  33 

we  passed  along,  the  streets,  we  could  hear  threats  pronounced 
against  John  Morgan  and  his  men,  and  it  was  said  currently,  and 
believed,  that  the  most  prominent  of  us  were  to  be  arrested.  This 
we  determined  to  avoid  if  possible.  The  day  appointed  for  sotting 
out  at  length  came  round.  Capt.  Morgan  found  himself  narrowly 
watched,  and  was  compelled  to  leave  Lexington  on  foot,  and  meet 
a  friend  with  his  horse  beyond  the  city  limits.  Others  of  us  had 
to  pretend  we  were  going  to  Paris  and  Georgetown  on  business. 

"  On  departing,  we  could  bring  nothing  out  that  would  jeopar- 
dize us,  so  we  had  to  leave  our  baggage  and  guns  to  our  friends 
who  were  less  suspected,  and  who  were  to  come  out  at  night. 
Some  were  to  leave  Wednesdays  some  that  night,  and  others  less 
noted  not  until  Thursday.  <  mr  plan  succeeded  admirably.  I  be- 
lieve not  one,  who  set  out  for  Camp  Secret,  has  been  arrested. 

"  In  t he  course  of  twenty-four  hours  after  .Morgan  entered  Law- 
renceburg,  he  found  himself  at  the  bead  of  fifty  men.  We  re- 
mained there  a  few  hours  awaiting  others  whom  he  hoped  would 
join  us.  Sorrte  of  our  bravest  men  are  yet  behind.  Hut  they  had 
large  families,  and  I  suppose  felt  they  could  not  leave  them.  At 
Lawrenoeburg,  Morgan  hired  a  man  he  could  rely  upon,  and  sent 
him  to  Louisville  to  inform  old  Trent  ice  that  he  and  his  men  had 
been  captured." 

"That  was  a  happy  ruse,  indeed,"'  interrupted  the  eager  listen- 
er. "I  am  convinced,  after  hearing  ypur  story,  that  ('apt.  Mor- 
gan should  be  left  to  pursue  his  own  course.  He  can  aid  the  cause 
in  Kentucky,  perhaps,  better  than  any  other  man.  His  family  in- 
fluence is  extensive.  He  can  command  money,  is  acquainted4 with 
the  State,  and  above  all,  is  a  man  of  decision,  energy  and  daring." 

Weeks  passed  by.  Charley  bad  become  measurably  inured  to 
the  duties  of  a  soldier's  life.  He  could  stand  on  picket  or  guard, 
go  scouting  or  foraging,  make  coffee  or  corn  bread.  Prompt,  obe- 
dient, kind,  be  won  the  respect  of  his  officers  and  the  esteem  of  his 
fellow-soldiers;  and  bis  faithfulness  and  daring  had  obtained  the 
favorable  notice  of  bis  Colonel. 

His  letters  to  his  friends  at  home  were  characterized  by  a  spirit 
of  cheerful  endurance  of  present  discipline,  and  heroic  determina- 
tion to  make  good  his  cause  in  the  held  of  conflict.  Hopeful,  bouy- 
ant,  he  gilded  the  future  with  the  bright  hues  of  joyous  expectancy, 
yet  he  realized  that  the  life  he  had  chosen  was  oneof  labor  and  hard- 
ship. "  We  shall  have  to  endure  many  trials,  mother,  suffer  many 
privations,  make  many  sacrifices,  but  we  shall  conquer,  shall  sure- 
ly triumph  ;  the  justice  of  our  cause  insures  success.  There  is 
not  a  man  in  our  regiment  that  would  not  prefer  death  to  submis- 
sion." His  letters  to  .Mary  breathed  the  same  spirit  of  hope  and 
confidence,  tempered,  however,  by  a  feeling  of  sadness  at  their 
separation,  and  an  earnest  desire  that  their  meeting  might  not  be 
far  distant. 

Poor  Mary  !  Over  her  young  and  loving  heart  there  had  crept  a 
3 


34  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

shadow.  And  she  who  through  her  life  had  ever  been  so  joyous, 
so  happy,  was  now  sad  and  thoughtful.  Most  of  her  time  was 
passed  with  her  mother,  whose  health  grew  daily  more  feeble,  and 
who  clung  to  her  child  with  that  feeling  of  dependence  which 
the  weak  manifest  towards  the  strong. 

Meanwhile  the  Lincoln  hordes  were  pouring  into  Kentucky,  pos- 
sessing themselves  of  every  point  deemed  important  to  their  pur- 
pose of  subjugation.  The  great  heart  of  the  State  stood  still  be- 
fore the  unfoldings  of  the  dread  panorama.  And  those  whose 
voice  had  been  for  "  Union"  at  the  polls  and  in  private  now  began 
with  fearful  forebodings,  to  ask  themselves  if  the  bayonet  would 
accomplish  the  desired  end.  But  what  could  be  done.  They  had 
courted  the  oppression  of  the  tyrant;  and  forged  the  fetters  that 
enchained  them.  And  now  they  stood  helpless,  hopeless,  the  vic- 
tims of  their  own  pusillanimity  and  avarice.  While  those  who  had 
ever  opposed  the  coercion  of  free  and  sovereign  States  as  the  over- 
throw of  civil  liberty  and  constitutional  right,  robbed  of  their  arms 
and  of  every  privilege  of  a  freeman,  denounced  as  traitors,  watched 
in  every  word^nd  act,  realizing  that  any  show  of  resistance  would 
be  sheer  folly,  suffered  themselves  to  be  borne  along  by  the  cur- 
rent and  even  swept  into  the  fearful  vortex.  Better  far  had  they 
resisted  in'  the  outset,  and  driven  the  invader  back  from  the  banks 
of  the  Ohio. 

Poor  degraded,  subjugated  Kentucky  !  Thine  is  a  sad  story  of 
vacillation  and  fear;  of  wrong  and  oppression.  TJie  faithful 
chronicler  of  this  wicked  war  must  pen  with  shame  and  regret  thy 
irresolution  and  its  ruinous  results.  While  I  write',  as  oue  of  thy 
children,  I  weep  as  my  thoughts  go  back  to  thee  in  thy  deep  hu- 
miliation, and y linger  amid  thy  once  lovely  scenes — thy  once  free 
and  happy  sons  and  daughters,  now  so  oppressed  so  down  trodden. 
But  thou  wilt  arise  from  thy  fallen  position.  Even  while  I  weep, 
the  glad  tidings  come  sweeping  in  the  breeze,-."  Keutucky  deter- 
mines to  be  free!"  And  now,  at.  the  last  hour,  thou  wilt  break 
the  chains  that  bind  thee,  and  will  stand  ranged  with  thy  South- 
ern sisters,  proudly  free,  determinedly  defiant. 

A  vote  of  a  party  Legislature'had  invited  Anderson,  of  Sumtel' 
notoriety,  into  the  State  to  take  charge  of  the  troops  within  her 
borders.  This  was  a  cunning  pretext  to  open  the  way  for  the  for- 
midable army  that  was  soon  to  be  thrown  against  Buckner  at 
Bowling  Green.  The  purpose  of  the  Lincolnitc  dynasty  had  been 
served,  and  Anderson,  the  man  of  an  hour,  the  tool  of  an  unprinci- 
pled party,  bad  been  superseded  by  Buell,  who  was  concentrating 
his  force  as  rapidly  as  possible,  in  front  of  Bowling  Green.  His 
advance,  under  Rosseau,  already  extended  beyond  Elizabethtown, 
and  between  that  point  and  Louisville,  troops  were  being  massed 
in  numbers.  Paducah,. Southland,  and  several  interior  towns  were 
already  in  their  possession. 

Major  Breckinridge  having  made  his  escape  through  the  Fed- 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  35 

eral  lines,  had  reached  Bowling  Careen,  ami,  there,  in  an  address 
to  the  people  of  Kentucky,  resigned  his  seat  in  the  Federal  Con- 
gress, and  announced  himself  ready  to  serve  the  Southern  cause 
in  whatever  position  might  be  assigned  him.  lie  received  the 
commission  of  Brigadier  General,  and  the  Kentucky  regiments 
were  formed  into  a  brigade,  of  which  he  was  given  the  command. 
Hanson's  force  was  recalled  to  Bowling  Green,  and  Gen.  Hindman 
thrown  into  position  at  Green  River. 

It  was  proposed  to  establish  a  Provisional  Government  for  Ken- 
tucky, that  she  might  he  represented  in  the  Confederate  Congress. 
It  was  decided  the  Convent  ion  for  that  purpose  should  meet  at 
Russellville.  The  Federal  authorities  heard  of  the  movement,  and. 
declared  the  Convent  ion  should  never  assemble,  and  they  deter- 
mined to  throw  Crittendems  force  so  as  to  menace  Russellville 
and  prevent  the  proposed  meeting.  Gen.  Buckner  learning  the 
Federal  programme,  ordered  Breckinridge  to  move  from  Bowling 
GreeD   to    Russellville. 

It  was  the  middle  of  November  when  Breckinridge  and  his. com- 
mand set  out  for  Russellville.  The  weather  was  cold  and  damp, 
and  the  roads  muddy.  It  was  the  first  inarching  bio  troops  had 
done;  but  his  men  bore  it.  like  veterans,  and  not  a  word  of  com- 
plaint was  heard  throughout  the  lines. 

Charley  now  began  to  experience  something  of  the  hardships  of 
the  campaign  before  him.  As  he  threw  himselCon  his  blanket, 
weary  witli  ihe  fatigue  of  the  day's  march,  and  looked  up  into  the 
face  of. the  bending  heavens  above  him,  thoughts  of  home  and  its 
comforts,  of  its  loved  ones  whom  lie  might  never  again  behold, 
stirred  the  deep  dcp!^-;  of  his  soul.  Tears  sprung  to  his  eyes,  and 
he  wept  like  a  child.     It  w:  »rrow  nor  apprehension,  but 

tender  remembrances  ol'  the  past  that  caused  him  thus  to  grieve. 
There  he  lav  thinking,  his  bosom  heaving  with  varied  emotions, 
his  wearied  frame  stretched  out  on  the  hard  ground,  with  no  cover 
from  the  cold  night  air  but  his  blanket  wrapped  around  him,  his 
knapsack  for  a  pillar.  •  As  he  dwelt  on  the  wrongs  inflicted  on  his 
Stale,  the  insolence  of  the  oppressor,  the  Bufferings  that  must  ne- 
cessarily follow  in  the  train  of  horrid  war,  then  turned  to  the  iu- 
sultcd  South,  noble  in  her  determination,  heroic  in  her  struggle, 
his  heart  grew  strong  within  lorn,  his  physical  sufferings  were  for- 
gotten, he  heeded  not  his  cold,  hard  bed,  thought  not  of  bis  empty 
haversack,  dreaded  not  the  bloody  battle-held. 

The  Convention  assembled,  protected  by  those  gallant  men,  who 
fully  thwarted  the  plans  of  the  Federals,  keeping  them  at  bay. 
About  seventy  counties  were  represented  in  the  body.  Resolu- 
tions were  adopted,  declaring  that  in  view  of  the  unconstitutional 
acts  of  the  Administration  at  Washington,  and  the  belief  that  the 
war  was  cue  of  usurpation  and  subjugation,  Kentucky,  as  a  sove- 
reign State,  had  a  right  to  withdraw  herself  from  the  Federal 
compact,  and  choose  her  own  position. 


36  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

On  the  19th  of  November,  the  Ordinance  of  Secession  was 
passed.  George  W.  Johnson  was  made  Provisional  Governor,  and 
members  of  the  Confederate  Congress  were  appointed  from  every 
District  in  the  State  represented  in  the  Convention. 

The  Assembly  having  adjourned,  Breckinridge,  with  his  forces, 
was  ordered  back  to  Bowling  Green.  After  remaining  there  for 
some  days,  the  order  was  given  that  they  should  go  back  to  Roch- 
ester, a  point  on  Green  River,  in  Butler  county,  in  order  to  pre- 
vent a  supposed  flank  movement  of  the  Federals. 

From  Rochester  they  returned  to  Bowling  Green,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  Cave  City,  where,  after  remaining  several  weeks,  they 
were  dispatched  to  Glasgow,  to  intercept  an  anticipated  movement 
of  the  enemy  in  that  direction.  -The  rain  poured  in  torrents,  freez- 
ing as  it  fell.  The  men  were  drenched  through  and  through,  as 
they  ploughed  through  the  dreadful  roads,  knee  deep  in  mud.  On 
and  on  they  trudged,  over  many  a  weary  mile,  dripping  with  wet, 
shivering  with  cold,  ready  to  sink  with  fatigue. 

The  alarm  was  false,  and  after  they  had  proceeded  one-third  of 
the  way,  a  courier  came  to  countermand  the  order.  Back  the 
whole  force  was  turned  to  retrace  the  miserable  road.  The  men 
were  sorely  tried  under  this  unnecessary  experience,  and  their 
displeasure  found  vent  in  bitter  murmurings. 

Many  a  "narrow  house  "  at  Bowling  Green,  all  unmarked  by 
love's  kind  hand,  tells  the  sad  tale  of  this  dreadful  march.  And 
in  many  a  quiet  graveyard  and  family  burying  ground  throughout 
Kentucky,  the  stricken  mourner  bends  over  the  quiet  dust  of  the 
loved  one  lost,  whose  life  was-  there  sacrificed. 

Our  young  hero  had  a  fine  constitution,  Which  had  beeti  well 
preserved  and  developed.  But  those  drenching  marches  had  sore- 
ly tried  it,  and  its  vigor  and  power  had  finally  to  succumb  before 
the  insidious  advance  of  disease,  which  first  manifested  itself  in  a 
slight  cold,  and  then  rapidly  developed  itself  into  a  severe  attack 
of  pneumonia.  Now  rose  up  before  his  fevered  imagination  all  the 
horrors  of  the  hospital,  with  its  fearful  sufferings,  its  almost  certain 
death.  "  Oh,  do  not  take  me  there !  "  he  said,  pointing  to  the 
gloomy  building  that  stood  before  bim.  "Leave  me  here  to  die." 
Through  the  exertions  of  Lieut.  Tryon,  a  bed  was  procured  for 
him  in  a  private  house,  to  which  he  was  borne,  and  where  he  was 
as  carefully  attended  as  circumstances  would  admit.  There  was 
a  great  deal  of  sickness  in  the  army  at  Bowling  Grefen,  and  every 
house  was  filled  with  the  sufferers.  Measels,  fever  and  pneumonia 
prevailed  most  fearfully. 

Charley  grew  rapidly  worse.  His  symptoms  were  of  the  most 
alarming  nature.  His  physician,  Dr.  Lindley,  pronounced  the 
case  one  of  a  malignant  character,  and  gave  but  little  encourage- 
ment to  hope  for  his  recovery.  A  friend  of  Charley's  from  Louis- 
ville, being  informed  of  his  situation,  sought  him  out,  that,  he 
might  minister,  to  his  sufferings.    This  gentleman  found  him  in  a 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  tt 

small   unventilated  room,  where  lay  three  other  sick  soldiers,  two 
on  the  floor,  one  in  the  bed  beside  Charley. 

The  air  was  foul  with  the  fumes  of  tobacco,  while  the  greatest 
untidiness  and  neglect  were  every  where  visible.  Charley  was 
wild  with  fever.  He,  of  course,  required  the  most  profound  quiet, 
and  yet  a  band  of  musicians  was  quartered  in  the  building,  and 
ever  at  their  pleasure  they  made  the  air  resonant  with  their  mar- 
tial rehearsals.  The  kind  friend  found  he  musi  certainly  die  if 
left  to  remain  in  that  dreadful  condition,  and  determined  to  hazard 
his  removal,  despite  the  assertion  of  the  physician, -who  declared 
imperatively  that  such  an  act  would  be  followed  by  certain  death. 

An  apartment  was  secured  away  from  the  noise  and  confusion  of 
the  town,  and  thither  Charley  was  taken.  A  skillful  nurse  was 
procured,  and  alter  weeks  of  pain  and  feebleness,  he  so  far  re- 
covered as  tti  be  pronounced  beyond  danger. 

Jt  was  a  cold,  bleak  morning  in  December.  The  snow,  which 
had  fallen  the  previous  night,  covered  the  earth  with  its  white 
mantle  of  purity.  The  sun  shone  brilliantly  out  from,  the  cloud- 
less heavens,  and  as  his  gulden  beams  fell  over  the  earth,  they 
awoke  to  life  a  flood  of  glorious  radiance  must  beautiful  to  behold. 
The  majestic  trees,  draped  in  their  robes  immaculate,  caught  up 
the  dazzling  effulgence,  and  sent,  it  back  in  prismal  loveliness  over 
hill  and  plain  and. ice  clad  brook. 

Charley  sat,  a  convalescent,  beside  the  hugely  blazing  log  fire, 
which,  sparkling  and  crackling,  sent  its  dancing  flames,  of  fiery 
hue,  here  and  there,  up,  across,  athwart,  as  if  in  merry  mimic  of 
carnival  holiday.  His  chair  was  so  situated  as  to  give  him  a  fujl 
view  of  the  scene  without,  through  the  window  at  his  left,  from 
which  the  red  curtain  had  been  lifted.  There  he  sat,  thinking, 
thinking.  And  of  what  could  he  be  thinking  but  of  home  and 
Mary.  He  sighed  most  deeply,  and  passed  his  hand  slowly  over 
his  pale  brow,  as  there  came  up  before  him  the  long,  long  weary 
days  since  he  had  heard  from  the  loved  one  whose  image  lived  in 
his  heart,  whose  Reft  sweet  look  was  ever  with  him,  whether  in 
the  weary  march,  or  in  the  still  deep  hours  of  midnight,  he  lay 
dreaming  of  the  bliss  to  come. 

••  To  see  her  once  again,"  he  said  to  himself,  as  he  leaned  his 
head  on  his  hand,  "  would  be  more  to  me  than  the  elixir  of  life 
to  I  hriental  magician.  I  should  be  well  again,  could  I  but  look 
on  her  faultless  form,  gaze  into  the  pure  living  depths  of  those 
soft  blue  eyes,  and  clasp  that  gentle  hand  in  mine.  But,  ah  me, 
many  a  day  shall  come  and  go,  before  we  meet.  And  it  may  be 
— yes,  it  may  be — "  He  dared  not  complete  the  dread  sentence, 
lie  shuddered  with  fear  like  one  seized  with  sudden  chill — tears 
came  to  his  eyes,  and  he  bow  d  his  head  yet  lower  on  his  hand. 

Thus  he  sat  for  several  minutes,  thinking,  fearing,  feeling.  Then 
rising,  he  walked  feebly  to  a  little  dressing  stand,  on  the  other 
side  of  the  fire  place,  and  took  from  its  drawer  a  picture.     Re- 


38  "  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

seating  himself,  he  opened  it,  and  gazed  intently  on  the  face  be- 
fore him.  His  countenance  wore  the  look  of  saddened  love — his 
cheek  was  flushed,  his  hand  trembled. 

A  rap  was  heard  at  the  door.  Supposing  it  to  be  his  physician, 
whose  hour  it  was  to  make  his  morning  call,  he  hastily  thrust  the 
picture  into  his  bosom,  (its  usual  resting  place,)  and  wiping  the 
tears  from  his  eyes  with  his  hand,  he  assumed  as  far  as  he  could 
his  wonted  look  of  cheerfulness.  The  door  opened.  Charley 
turned  to  bid  the  physician  good  morning.  His  eye  rested  on  a 
strange  form,  muffled  in  overcoat  and  comforter  to.  shut  out  the 
bleak  winter  air. 

Charley  bade  the  visitor  "  Good  morning,"  and  requested  him 
to  walk  to  the  fire,  pointing  him  to  a  chair,  which  stood  near  the 
dressing  case. 

The  stranger  did  not  obey  the  invitation,  but  stood  eyeing  the 
invalid  wth  a  quizzical  look.  Charley's  face  colored  deeply,  and 
strange  fancies  began  to  fill  his  bewildered  brain.  The  visitor 
threw  off  his  cap  and  hastily  drew  the  comforter  from  his  face. 

^John  !  "  ejaulated  Charley,  as  he  stretched  out  his  thin  pale 
hand  towards  him.  It  was  all  he  c«tdd  say,  for  a  moment.  John 
Lawrence,  (for  it  was  he,)  the  brother  of  Mary,  and  Charley's  life- 
long friend,  grasped  the  feeble  hand,  and  shook  it  most  heartily. 
Then  drawing  the  chair  to  Charley's  side,  he  recounted  to  him  all 
the  incidents  of  his  escape  from  Louisville,  and  the  various  ad- 
ventures that  had  befallen  him  by  the  way. 

"  And  I  have  two  letters  for  you,  Charley."  And  the  young 
man  turned  up  the  left  leg  of  his  pantaloons,  and  with  his  knife, 
making  an  opening  in  the  lining,  drew  forth  two  sheets  of  tissue 
paper,  closely  written,  and  tossed  them  in  the  invalid's  lap.  "  I 
tell  you,  my  friend,  they  have  had  many  a  b air-breadth  escape, 
and  could  they  tell  their  own  story,  it  would  prove  no  uninterest- 
ing history,  I  assure  you.." 

Charley  tore  off  the  gauzy  envelopes,  and  looked  for  the  signa- 
tures. One  was  from  his  sister  Lu,  the  other  from  Mary.  What 
a  smile  of  happiness  overspread  his  wan  face,  giving  to  it  an  ex- 
pression peculiarly  interesting,  as  eagerly  his  eye  glanced  over  the 
contents  of  these  dear  missives.  Like  the  breathings  of  the  Angel 
of  Life,  stole  the  eloquent  words  of  love  into  the  innermost  re- 
cesses of  his  soul,  arousing  to  renewed  vigor  every  .animal  function. 

The  letters  were  read  and  laid  aside  for  a  reperusal,  and  con- 
versation resumed,  when  the  physician,  pausing  a  moment  after 
knocking,  entered  the  door  and  approached  his  patient. 

"Ah,  better  to-day,  Charley,"  said  Dr.  Lindley,  pleasantly,  as 
he  turned  from  shaking  young  Lawrence's  hand,  and  took  the  arm 
of  his  patient.     "  I  think  you  will  no  longer  need  my  care." 

After  a  few  minutes  the  physician  rose  to  leave,  telling  Charley 
he  would  not  call  again,  unless  sent  for,  as  he  was  now  entirely 
free  from  danger,  and  only  needed  care  to  restore  him  to  health. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  39 

Young  Lawrence,  or  John,  as  wo  shall  most,  frequently  style 
him  in  our  future,  narrative,  remained  with  his  friend  for  several 
hours,  and  when  he  left  to  report  himself  and  obtain  a  position  in 
Col.  Hanson's  regiment,  if  possible),  it  was  under  promise  to  return 
as  soon  as  this  business  could  be  arranged.  John  was  not  only 
placed  in  the  desired  regiment,  but  also  in  Company  C,  a  vacancy 
having  been  made  by  the  death  of  one  of  the  members. 

Charley,  as  Dr.  Lindley  had  said,  grew  rapidly  well,  and  in  the 
lapse  of  two  weeks  from  the  physician's  last  call,  be  was  ready  to 
join  his  regiment  and  resume  his  duties  as  a  soldier. 

,Many  a  familiar  face  was  absent.  Some  lay  on  beds  of  ling- 
ering languor  in  the  dreary  hospitals.  Others  were  quietly  rest- 
ng  beneath  the  new   made  earth  in  the  soldiers'  burying  ground. 


<  liAPTER  VIII. 


GBN.    BUCENKH    ORDERED    TO    REINFORCE    FORT    HONELSON, 

Christmas  came  and  passed.  But  little  of  a  striking  character 
connected  with  the  Confederate  army  in  Kentucky  had  yet  trans- 
pired. They  had  served  for  months  to  hold  in  check  the  immense 
Federal  force  that  had  been  thrown  into  the  State,  and  thus  -had 
rendered  to  the  Confederacy  most  valuable  service,  by  giving  it 
time  to  expand  and  strengthen  its   resources. 

It  was  the  last  days  of  January,  1862.  The  army  had  remained 
at  Howling  Green  since  the  18th  of  September  previous.  Each 
day  intelligence  was  received  that  the  Yankees  would  very  soon 
make  an  attack.  Already  had  the  gallant  Terry  fallen  at  Green 
River.  Already  had  all  the  troops  been  withdrawn  from  along 
the  line  of  the  Louisville  and  Nashville  railroad,  and  concentrated 
behind  the  fortifications  at  Bowling  Green,  and  their  old  encamp- 
ments were  occupied  by  the  advancing  foe,  who  wearily  yet  stead- 
ily moved  on  towards  the  accomplishment  of  his  purpose. 

It  became  evident  to  Gen.  A.  S.  Johnston  that  Bowling  Green 
must  be  evacuated,  particularly  as  the  enemy  was  now  making 
extensive  preparations  to  attack  Forts  Henry  and  Donelson  by 
water;  but  his  determination  was  to  hold  out  at  the  above  men- 


40  RAIDS  AND  KOMANC^ 

tioned  place  as  long  as  he  could,  in  order  that  the  fortifications  at 
Donelson  might  be  made  as  strong  as  practicable. 

Gen.  Buckner  had  received  orders  from  Gen.  Johnston  to  move 
with  his  division  against  the  Federal  General,  Crittenden,  who, 
with  a  considerable  force,  was  posted  at  Rochester,  a  small  town 
in  Butler  county,  of  which  mention  has  hitherto  been  made.  In 
obedience  to  the  command,  Gen.  Buckner  took  with  him  eight  re- 
giments, numbering  in  all  about  seven  thousand  men,  among  them 
the  2d  Kentucky,  Col.  Hanson,  the  14th  Mississippi,  Col.  Harper, 
and  the  3d  Tennessee,  Col.  Brown.  Gen.  Floyd  accompanied  him 
with  his  Virginia  troops.  The  whole  force  amounting  to  about 
nine  thousand.  The  command  left  Bowling  Green  for  Rochester 
via  Russellville.  The  rain  commenced  to  pour  in  torrents  on  the 
first  day  of  the  march.  Reaching  Russellville,  it  was  found, im- 
possible to  proceed  further,  owing  to  the  impassable  state  of  the' 
roads.  While  thus  detained,  orders  came  to  Gen.  Buckner  to 
hasten  to  Donelson,  for  the  purpose  of  reinforcing  the  garrison 
there. 

Charley,  seated  on  a  camp  stool  at  the  door  of  his  tent,  his  pa- 
per resting  on  his  knee,  was  busily  writing  a  letter  to  Mary.  The 
rain  fell  unceasing  from  the  thick  black  clouds  above.  The  winter 
wind  blew  fiercely  through  the  leafless  branches-  of  the  old  forest 
trees,  which  stood  like  the  grim  sentinels  of  some  enchanted  land. 
Its  voice  sounded  mournfully  solemn  as  it  swept  onward  by  the 
tent. door,  over  the  dreary  meadow  land,' and  lost  itself  amid  the 
thick  undergrowth  of  the  dark  gloom  of  the  dense  forest  beyond. 
To  the  ear  of  Charley,  it  seemed  like  the  low  plaintive  dirge  of  a 
lost  spirit.  The  scene  was  dreary  and  cheerless  enough  to  oppress 
the  stoutest  heart  with  loathing  disgust  for  the  present  and  dread 
apprehensions  for  the  future,  and,  despite  all  his  endeavors  to  the 
contrary,  Charley's  words  would  breathe  a  true  spirit  of  subdued 
thought,  very  near  akin  to  sadness.  The  dark  trials  which  were 
so  soon  to  be  realized  by  many  a  bold  defiant  heart,  seemed  to 
throw  their  shadows  over  the  present,  and  to  forewarn  of  coming 
defeat  and  humiliation. 

"  I  know  not  why  I  thus  feel,  my  dear  Mary,"  wrote.  Charley, 
after  speaking  his  fears  and  apprehensions.  "  It  is  so  unusual  for 
me  to  be  overcome  by  gloomy  presentiments.  But  I  cannot  rid 
myself  of  the  feeling.  Indeed,  it  reaches  conviction,  that  there  is 
sorrow  in  store  for  us.  I  have  never  been  so  impressed  before 
since  I  parted  with  you,  and  my  dear,  dear  friends.  It  must  be 
this  miserable  weather.  This  ever  continued  dropping  of  the  cold 
chill  rain  and  mournful  sighing  of  the  bleak  wind — I  must  not  yield 
to  such  impressions ;  they  unfit  me  for  duty,  life,  every  thing. 
They  will  pass  away,  no  doubt,  with  the  return  of  sunshine,  and 
then  I  shall  be  myself  again." 

"  Orders  are  to  move  immediately  to  Fort  Donelson.  Quick, 
boys,  be  ready  as  soon  as  possible.     Cars  are  in  waiting  to  carry 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  41 

us  to  Clarksville.  Not  a  moment  must  be  lost."  And  the  speaker 
left  the  door  of  the  tent  to  deliver  his  commands  elsewhere. 

Charley  hastily  added  an  explanation,  enveloped  and  directed 
his  letter,  and  requesting  his  friend  John  to  attend  to  needed  pre- 
paration, hastened  to  the  post  office.  All  was  energy  and  bustle 
throughout  the  encampment.  In  thirty  minutes  after  the  issuance 
of  the  order,  the  2d  Kentucky  was  marched  on  board  the  cars, 
which  immediately  conveyed  them  to  Clarksville,  en  route  to  Fort 
Donelson.  This  was  on  Tuesday,  February  ]  lth.  On  Wednes- 
day they  reached  Donaldson  by  boat.  Thursday  the  attack  was 
made  on  the  fort  by  the  land  forces  of  the  Federals,  under  (Jen. 
Grant. 

It  was  now  evident  to  the  men  that  some  fighting  must  be  done; 
they  were  now,  for  the  first  time,  to  meet  the  foe.  Victory  or 
death  was  their  watchword,  and  nobly  did  they  make  it  good 
throughout  those  memorable  three  days,  when,  from  early  morn- 
ing until  night,  they  repulsed,  with  superhuman  energy,  the  hosts 
of  the  beleaguerers. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


DONELSON — FIRST    DAY'S    ATTACK. 

What  varied  emotions  are  called  into  life  at  the  mention  of  that 
name — Fort  Donelson.  Emotions  of  sadness  as  the  mind  recalls 
the  sufferings,  privations  and  defeat  of  those  gallant  men — those 
more  than  Spartan  defenders — who,  for  three  long  weary  days  of 
carnage,  maintained  the  unequal  contest  against  such  fearful  odds; 
and  who  at  last  yielded  because  nature  exhausted  could  no  longer 
obey  the  biddings  of  their  unconquerable  courage — emotions  of 
unbounded  admiration  as  we  think  of  the  daring,  endurance,  patri- 
otism and  nerve  manifested  by  that  devoted  hand,  who,  under  cir- 
cumstances the  most  trying,  without  food  or  adequate  clothing,, 
meeting  and  driving  back  through  the  day  the  countless  hordes  of 
the  assailants,  and  at  night,  hungry  and  worn  from  the  conflict, 
sleeping  in  trenches  filled  with  mud  and  ice,  till  many  were  fro- 
zen, while  the  pitiless  sleet  beat  furiously  over  them — yet,  like 
veterans — like  brave,  patriotic  men  as  they  were,  meeting  all  these 


42  .  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

horrors,  enduring  all  this  unparalleled  hardship  unmurmuringly, 
and  with  firm  undaunted  soul,  rising  with  each  rising  morn  to 
strike  for  freedom  and  for  right. 

This  dreadful  war  hath  many  a  page  all  bright  and  glorious 
with  the  heroic  daring,  the  patriotic  fortitude,  the  brilliant  vic- 
tory of  Southern  freemen,  but  none  can  ever  be  more  lustrous, 
can  ever  speak  in  words  of  more  thrilling  eloquence  to  the  gen- 
rations  of  all  coming  years,  that  that  of  Donelson,  the  synonym 
of  all  that  is  sublime  in  suffering,  heroic  in  daring,  and  nobly 
triumphant  in  patriotism. 

On  the  10th  of  February,  General  Pillow  reached  Donelson  and 
took  command.  Immediately  every  thing  was  in  busy  activity  to 
place  the  Fort  in  a  defensive  condition  against  the  expected  at- 
tack by  land  and  river. 

"  The  space,  to  be  defended  by  the  army  was  quadrangular  in 
shape,  being  limited  on  the  north  by  the  Cumberland  river,  and  on 
the  east  and  west  by  small  streams,  now  converted  into  deep 
sloughs  by  -€he  high  water,- — on  the  south  by  our  line  of  defence. 
The  river  line  exceeded  a  mile  in  length.  The  line  of  defence  was 
about  one  mile  and  a  half  long,  and  its  distance  from  the  river 
varied  from  one-fourth  to' three-fourths  of  a  mile." 

The  line  of  entrenchments,  of  a  few  logs  rolled  together  and 
but  slightly  covered,  with  earth,  formed  an  insufficient  protection 
even  against  field  artillery.  Not  more  than  a  third  of  the  line 
was  completed  on  the  morning  of  the  12th.  It  had  been  located 
near  the  crest  of  a  series  of  ridges,  which  sloped  backward  from 
the  river,  and  which  were  again  commanded  in  several  places  by 
the  ridges  at  a  still  greater  distance  from  the  river.  This  chain 
of  heights  was  intersected  by  deep^valleys  and  ravines,  which  ma- 
terially interfered  with  communications  between  different  parts  of 
the  line.  Between  the  village  of  Dover  and  the  water  batteries  a 
broad  and  deep  valley,  extending  back  from' the  river,  and. flooded 
by  the  high  water,  intersected  the  quadrangular  area  occupied  by 
the  army,  and  almost  completely  isolated  the  rjght  wing. 

There  were  but  thirteen  guns* and,  on  trial,  it  was  found  that 
only  three  of  this  number  were  effective  against  the  gunboats.  The 
garrison  numbered."  13,000  troops,  all  told."  These  consisted  of 
Tennessee  and  Mississippi  regiments,  under  Gen.  Pillow,  Gen. 
Floyd's  brigade,  and  a  "portion  of  Gen.  Buckner's  command  from 
Bowling  Green,  which  did  not  reach  the  Fort  until  the  3  2th,  only. 
the  day  before  the  attack,  while  Gen.  Floyd  did  not  arriveuntil  the 
morning  of  the  13th. 

The  morning  of  the  13th  of  February  rose  bright  and  beautiful. 
Just  as  the  first  rays  of  the  dawning  sun,  bursting  through  the 
fleecy  clouds  of  the  morning,  fell  over  the  earth,  loud  booming  of 
the  cannon  aroused  the  expectant  garrison,  arid  announced  the  be- 
ginning of  that  fierce  conflict  which  was  to  last  throughout  three 
fearful  days. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  43 

The  men  sprung  to  arms  eager  for  the  contest.  Soon,  under 
the  direction  of  their  officers,  they  were  formed  into  line  of  battle, 
and  in  a  few  brief  moments  the  strife  commenced  on  the  right 
wing,  commanded  by  Buckner,  where  for  hours  it  raged  in  wildest 
fury. 

On  and  on  came  the  moving  lines  of  the  foeman,  encountering 
the  well  directed  fire  of  infantry  and  artillery.  The  massed  col- 
umns wavered  and  fell  back  with  fearful  slaughter.  Not  a  Sooth; 
erner  faltered.  <  Hficers  displayed  the  most  daring  courage  riding 
u])  and  down  the  ranks  cheering  the  men,  and  inciting  them  to 
deeds  of  valor,  while  the  men,  righting  for  homes  and  liberty,  ri- 
valed each  other  in  death-defying  heroism. 

At  10  o'clock  the  extreme  right  of  Gen.  Buckner's  line,  under 
Colonel  Hanson,  was  desperately  attacked,  ihe  enemy  advancing 
in  column,  manifesting  a  determination  to  take  the  position  at  all 
hazards.     On  moved  the  serried  hosts. 

"Wait)  boys,  until  they  come  within  range  of  your  guns,"  was 
the  command. 

The  gallant.  2d  Kentucky,  fired  with  the  desire  to  repulse  the 
hated  foe.  could  scarcely  restrain  their  ardor.  "  Fire!"  the  Order 
ran  swift  along  the  line,  and  volley  after  volley  of  musketry  min- 
gling with  the  roar  and  bursting  of  shells  and  the  crashing  of  ar- 
tillery, poured  into  the  ranks  of  the  assaflanis.  Ah.  it  was  a  fear- 
ful sight  to  witness  the  carnage  and  death  that  swept  along  that 
close  dense  line.  Like  grain  before  the  reaper's  sickle,  they  fell, 
mowed  down  by  bullet,  shell  and  shot.  Affrighted  they  paused — 
'twas  but  for  a  moment;  rallying  they  pressed  forward.  Again 
sped  the  horrid  missiles  of  death  from  the  entrenchments  and  down 
Went  scores  of  the  rash  besiegers  mangled,  torn,  bleeding,  writhing 
in  the  tortures  of  agony  and  death.  Discomfited,  the  decimated 
regiments  retire,  to  make  room  for  others  who  dash  on  to  the  same 
dreadful  fate.  Thrice  is  the  attack  made  on  this  appoint  by  fresh 
and  heavy  forces — thrice  is  the  foe  repulsed  with  dreadful  slaugh- 
ter. The  batteries  of  the  Confederates,  manajrwd  with  precision 
and  skill — each  man  performing  his  part  with  the  greatest  enthu- 
siasm— at  every  discharge,  cut  long  lanes  through  ihe  serried  col- 
umns of  the  assailants. 

Repulsed,  defeated  at  this  point,  the  enemy,  with  fresh  troops, 
turned  his  assault  on  the  position  beyond  General  Buckner's  left, 
h*dd  by  Colonel  Heiman,  and  flanked  by  Grave's  battery,  which 
tMm  its  location,  swept  with  its  deadly*  fire  the  val^  through 
winch  the  Federalists  had  to  advance. 

On  they  came,  with  firm,  undaunted  step,  knowing  not  that  they 
were  marching  to  the  death.  With  banners  proudly  waiving,  and 
officers  splendidly  uniformed,  cheering  their  men  to  victory,  they 
dash  on — on — on  !  All  is  silent  on  the  part  of  the  besieged. 
With  a  shout  of  triumph  the  armed  force*  press  forward.  Loud, 
as  if  a  thousand  thunders  had  leaped  from  the  wild  storm-cloud — 


44  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

reverberating  through  the  valleys,  and  boundings  against  the  hills, 
to  be  re-echoed  in  ten-fold  fury,  burst  upon  the  air  the  hideous  bel- 
lowing of  the  wide-mouth  cannon;  while  the  crash  and  hiss  of 
shredding  bullets  which  fell  like  thick  hail  on  the  close  lines, 
sweeping  down  in  one  wide  welter  hundreds  of  stricken  men,  added 
to  the  loud  wild  din,  until  the  earth  shook,  and  the  air  resounded 
with  the  terrible  conflict. 

Louder  and  louder  grew  the  mingling  clash  of  arms — fiercer  and 
yet  more  fierce  the  dreadful  struggle.  But  its  fiendish  fury  lasted 
but  for  a  few  minutes.  The  assailants,  unable  to  stand  the  leaden 
storm  in  front  and  the  destructive  flank  fire  from  Graves'  battery, 
like  their  comrades,  faltered  onward — then,  as  if  broken  by  the 
hand  of  Divine  vengeance,  affrighted,  panic-stricken,  they  turned 
and  fled  in  wild  confusion. 

Hundreds  of  their  number  lay  mangled,  wounded,  torn,  dying 
on  the  battle-field,  tramped  beneath  the  feet  of  their  retreating 
comrades.  Their  guns  had  been  silenced — many  of  their  officers 
had  fallen — yet,  unwilling  to  yield  the  contest,  they  poured  fresh 
troops  against  the  entrenchments,  and  the  deadly  strife  went  on. 

All  through  that  long,  dread  day  the  battle  raged  most  fearfully, 
and  as  night  closed  in  upon  the  sickening  carnage,  the  enemy,  re- 
pulsed, cut  to  pieces,  slain  in  hundreds,  was  driven  to  seek  his  po- 
sition of  the  morning,  leaving  the  field  covered  with  his  dead  and 
dying. 

Ah,  it  was  a  sad,  sight  to  see  them  there  cut  down  in  their 
manhood's  prime,  in  servile  obedience  to  the  behest  of  a  tyrant. 

Many  who,  but  a  few  hours  before,  had  marched  forth  with  strong 
hearts,  and  arms  well-nerved,  now  lay  stiff  and  cold  in  death. 
Many  weltered  in  their  gore  far  away  from  all  relief,  sending  out 
on  the  dead,  dull  ear  of  night  piteous  moans  and  cries  for  help,  which, 
alas,  would  never  come ;  for  when  the  morning  rose  and  woke  to 
life  their  comrades,  they  had  passed  away. 

On  the  bloody  battle-field  lay  friend  and  foe  in  ghastly  death  en- 
wrapt.  Every  wher$  were  mingled,  mangled  forms  of  men  and 
horses,  and  broken  remains  of  guns  and  caisons.  In  some  places 
the  dead  bodies  lay  piled  several  feet  deep.  In  many  instances, 
the  wounded  lay  pinned  to  the  cold,  moist  ground  by  the  forms 
of  dead  comrades,  whose  fixed  and  agonizing  eyes  looked  out  as  if 
in  search  of  the  foe;  "while  the  shrieks  of  the  suffering  and- dying 
broke  in  horrid  cries  on  the  ears  of  tnose  who  could  give  them 
no  aid.  ffaint  and  low  was  the  plaintive  wail  of  some,  as  with  the 
life  blood  ebbing  fast  from  their  gaping  wounds,  they  turned  their 
wild,  glaring  eye  upward  and  vainly  implored  help. 

Ah,  it  was  a  sight  fearfully  appalling,  that  battle-field  of  Donel- 
son.  For  two  miles  the  slain  were  thickly  strewn,  and  in  places 
where  our  artillery  had  mowed  them  down  they  lay  literally  heaped 
soddening  in  their  gore. 

The  morning  had  opened  beautifully  bright.     Towards  the  after- 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  45 

noon  a  fierce  wind  swept  from  the  north,  bringing  on  its  career- 
ing bosom  rain,  and  sleet,  and  snow.  A  more  fearful  night  could 
not  be  conceived  than  that  which  rested  over  the  blood-bathed 
battle-field  after  that  first  day's  conflict.  Those  of  the  wounded 
who  survived  the  horrors  of  that  memorable  night,  had  their 
clothes  stiff  frozen  to  the  gaping  wounds,  while  the  sleet  and  snow 
fell  pitilessly  over  their  prostrate  forms,  writhing  in  tortures  of 
helpless,  hopeless  agony. 

Those  of  the  garrison  who  had  fallen  beyond  the  entrench- 
ments shared  the  direful  fate  of  the  prostrate  enemy.  For  so 
close  were  the  two  armies,  as  they  rested  for  the  night,  that  neither 
dared  to  make  an  effort  to  alleviate  the  sufferings  of  their  wound- 
ed. 

Our  men  who  had  fought  throughout  the  day.  weary,  worn,  ex- 
hausted by  superhuman  efforts,  threw  themselves  ob  their  arms 
in  the  trenches  to  oatoh  such  repose  ai  the  shelling,  which  was 
kept  up  at  intervals  through  the  night  by  the  enemy,  would  allow. 

"  This  is  terrible,"  said  Charley  to  John  Lawrence,  who  lay 
beside  him  in  the  pit  shivering  with  cold,  while  the  freezing  sleet 
dashed  into  their,  faces  and  fell  in  icy  showers  over  their  benumbed 
bodies,  as  ever  and  anon,  the  bursting  shells  from  the  enemy's 
batteries  came  whizzing  through  the  air  on  their  errand  of  death. 

"Terrible  !  terrible  !"  replied  his  comrade.  "  We  shall  all  be 
frozen  by  morning  ;  it  is  impossible  to  live  through  sack  a  night 
aS  this,  lying  here  in  the  mud  and  snow,  without  any  protection. 
But  we  have  whipped  the  Lincolnites  most,  soundly,  and  this  is 
some  consolation,  Charley,  if  we  do  freeze  to  death.  The  poor 
wretches,  I  wonder  how  they  feel  to-night  after  their  drubbing.  I 
pity  them,  foes  as  they  are." 

At  that  moment  a  piercing  moan  was  heard  just  outside  the  en- 
trenchment, near  where  the  two  were  lying,  and  a  voice,  in  the 
accents  of  despair,  gasped  out,  "water!  water!  for  (rod's  sake, 
boys,  give  me  watei  !      I  am  dying!" 

"  That  is  one  of  our  men,*'  said  Charley,  rising  to  his  knees  ; 
"  listen  !  don't  you  hear  I  he  is  near  us.  I  must  give  the  poor 
fellow  water  if  they  kill  me  for  it.  I  cannot  let  him  lie  there  and 
die.  Go  with  me,  John,  perhaps  we  can  succeed  in  bringing  him 
in." 

"  They  may  shoot  us,  Charley,  as  they  did  those  boys  that 
m  nt  out  just  after  dark  to  bring  in  our  wounded.  But  we  must 
risk  it.  1  would  sooner  perish  than  listen  to  those  pitiful  groans. 
Have  you  any  water  in  your  canteen  ?     Mine  is  empty." 

"  Enough  for  him." 

The  two  rose  cautiously,  and,  guided  by  the  gad,  low  moans, 
proceeded  warily  under  cover  of  the  trees  to  where  the  sufferer 
lay. 

"  Water,  boys,  water."  said  the  wounded  man,  as  the  noise  of 
footsteps  fell  on  his  dull  ear.     "  1  am  dying — will  no  one  give  me 


46  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE- 

a  drop  of  water  ?    Oh,  for  God's  sake,  a  little  water,  I'm  dying. 
Just  a  little  water,  then  I'll  die  in  peace." 

Bending  low,  and  lifting  the  feeble  head,  Charley  placed  his 
canteen  to  the  famished  lips.     The  suiferer  drank  eagerly. 

"  God  bless  you,  boys !  I  was  ready  to  perish,  but  you  have 
saved  me,"  he  said,  in  low,  faltering  tones,  "  Could  you  take 
me  from  this  place  1  1  am. freezing,  dying.  Ah,  my  poor  wife, 
my  dear  children  !     God  in  heaven  pity  them  !" 

"  Be  quiet,  friend,  and  we  will  do  for  you  what  we  can,"  whis- 
pered Charley.  "  If  you  make  a  noise,  we  may  all  be  shot. 
Where  are  you  wounded  1" 

'■  There  in  my  ankle,"  and  the  man,  with  a  desperate  effort, 
struggled  up  ancTplaced  his  hand  upon  the  bleeding  limb.  As  he 
did  so,  he  shrieked  with  pain. 

"Be  quiet,"  whispered  Charley,  "or  the  Yankees  will  shoot 
us." 

"  The  bone  is  shattered,  and  I  am  so  faint  I  can't  sit  up,"  and 
the  poor  man  relaxed  his  hold  on  young  Lawrence's  arm,  and 
would  have  fallen  backward  to  the  ground  had  not  Charley  caught 
and  supported  him. 

"  Lean  on  us,  and  we  will  bear  you  in." 

"  God  bless  you,  boys,"  said  the  wounded  man,  with  something 
like  animation  in  his  voice.   •"  I  may  yet  live." 
.  With  great  effort  the  two  bore  him  within  the  entrenchments, 
and  securing  a  place  of  safety  and  comfort  for  him,  called  a  sur- 
geon to  dress  his  wounds. 

"We  shall  have  hot  work  to-morrow,  Charley,"  said  Lawrence, 
as  they  resumed  their  places  in  the  trenches.  "  These  Lincolnites 
have  a  strong  force,  and  they  will  bring  their  gunboats  into  the 
action." 

"  We  shall  whip  them  for  all  that,"  was  the  heroic  reply  ;  "  that 
is,  if  we  don't  all  freeze  to-night.  But,  really,  I  don't  believe  I 
can  live  till  morning  in  this  condition." 

"  I  don't  fear  a  thing  but  the  boats,  Charley.  But  I  do  quake 
a  little  at  the  thought  of  those»monster  balls  whizzing  round  my 
ears." 

"  Soon  get  used  to  them,  John. .  And  if  we  die,  we  perish  in  a 
glorious  cause.  This  is  niy  doctrine,  and  I'm  not  going  to  let 
their  gunboats,  nor  anything  else,  scare  me.  And  after  all,  the 
balls  from  their  gunboats  will  be  directed  against  the  water  bat- 
teries, and  can  do  us  but  little  harm,  I  imagine.  But  their  troops 
suprised  me,  John..  They  fought  like  men  in  earnest.  I  had  no 
idea  they  had  so  much  spirit.  Poor  fellows,  they  were  sadly  cut 
t6  pieces.     Their  loss  must  be  three  or  four  times  ours." 

"  Oh  these  Western  men  are  brave,  Charley.  It's  alia  mistake 
to  say  they  are  Yankee  cowards.  They  can  light  like  wild  cats. 
But  they  are  pretty  well  used  up.  I  think  they'll  need  some  rest 
before  they  attack  us  again." 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  47 

"  But,  doubtless,  they  will  be  heavily  reinforced  before  they  re- 
new the  attack,"  replied  Charley.  "  There's  no  end  to  the  num- 
ber of  these  men.  This  is  our  only  danger.  If  they  can  bring 
fresh  troops  agaioit  us  to-roorroW,  I  don'1  see  how  we  can  hold 
out,     But  Buckner  is  here,  and  I'll  trust  to  him." 

"Yes,  indeed,  I'll  risk  my  fate  in  his  hands.  He'll  bring  us 
through,  my  word  for  that." 

Just  then  a  shell  came  whizzing  by  and  exploded  at  no  great 
distance  from  where  they  lay.     It  did  no  damage. 

"They  won't  let  08  Bleep  a  wink  to-night,  Charley.  I  do  wish 
they  would  cease  firing  until  daylight." 

"  But  I  must  sleep,  John,  if  they  do  shell  us,  and  so  must  you. 
We  won't  be  able  to  tight  to-morrow  if  ire  don't.  We  must  take 
our  chances — no  use  tryingtoi 

The  two  selected  as  comfortable  a  posture  as  was  possible, 
and  fell  into  a  slumber,  from  which  they  were  frequently  amused 
by  the  passage  of  a  ball  or  shell,  as  it  swept  onward. 

The  lmig  and  dn  •  passed  away,  and  morning  came  all 

too  soon  for  those  weary  men,  who,  worn  out  with  the  fierce  con- 
test, lay  Bleeping  in  the  uncovered  pits,  while  I  and  snow 
fell  thick  and  fast  upon  them. 

At  the  tap  of  the  drum  they  sprang  from  their  fitful  sleep  and 
seized  their  arms.  Their  hearts  were  hrave,  and  they  to 
again  to  meet  the  baffled  foe.  There  be  lay,  with  his  gigantic 
numbers,  within  view  of  the  Fort,  but  as  yet  manifested  no  Bigns 
*  of  renewi  ig  the  attack.  Our  men.  after  vainly  waiting  sometime 
for  his  advance,  snatched  a  hasty  meal,  and  immediately  p] 
themselves  again  in  line  of  battle.  There  they  stood  hi  the 
trenches,  through  the  long,  dread  hours,  the  mud  and  foe  water  up 
1o  their  knees,  expecting  every  moment  the  presence  of  the  foe- 
men.  But  nothing  was  heard  froin  him  through  the  morning,  save 
the  shells  which  be  unceasingly  threw  ii  Fort. 

But  he  was  not  idle.  A  plan  for  an  attack  by  the  gunboats 
was  being  arranged,  and  meanwhile  large  reinforcements  were 
landed  from  transports,  which  every  where  lined  the  river  below 
the  Port, 

Their  plans  were  fully  comprehended  by  Gen.  Buckner,  who,  in 
a  council  of  general  officers  called  during  the  morning,  advised 
that  an  immediate  effort  should  be  made  by  the* garrison  to  cut  its 
way  out,  while  the  enemy, prostrated  by  the  defeat  of  the  previous 
day*  was  comparatively  helpless,  and  before,  the  reinforcements, 
fifteen  thousand  strong,  should  disembark.  The  proposition  was 
assented  to  by  all  present.  (Jen.  Buckner  proposed  to  cover  the 
retreat  of  the  army  with  his  division,  in  the  event  the  attempt 
should  prove  a  success.  The  troops  were  drawn  out,  and  every 
preparation  made,  both  by  Generals  Buckner  and  Pillow,  to  exe- 
cute tin'  movement,  w.im  to  the  surprise  of  the  former  General, 
the  order  was  countermanded  by  Gen.  Floyd,  influenced  to  the 


43  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

decision  by  the  unwise  council  of  Gen.  Pillow,  who  alleged  the 
lateness  of  the  hour  as  a  reason  for  the  abandonment  of  the  plan. 

Early  in  the  afternoon  the  gunboats  were  observed  to  be  ad- 
vancing to  attack  the  river  batteries,  and  at  three  o'clock  a  vigor- 
ous fire  was  issued  from  five  boats,  approaching  in  echelon,  throw- 
ing shot  into  the  fort  as  they  moved  slowly  and  majestically  for- 
ward. 

The  gunners  waited  until  the  advance  boats  were  within  effec- 
tive range  of  our  guns.  Then,  at  a  signal,  every  gun,  twelve  in 
numbei,  belched  forth  its  missile  of  destruction  and  death. 

Still,  amid  the  dreadful  storm  of  shot  and  shell  the  defiant  fleet 
moves  on,  confident  in  its  .strength,  until  it  approaches  within  a 
■  few  hundred  yards  of  the  Fort.  For  a  moment  the  guns  are  silent, 
then  in  tones  louder  than  Vesuvius'  dreadful  voice,  they  pour  forth 
their  deafening  rbar,  and  the  fiery  death  weapons  speed  on, their 
unerring  course. 

Higher  and  higher  swells  the  tumult — dreadful  and  more  dread- 
ful grows  the  fierce  conflict.  The  ground  shakes  as  with  the  throes 
of  an  earthquake.  The  air  resounds  for  miles  with  the  bellowings 
of  the  death-dealing  guns.  The  heavens  are  shut  out  by  the 
clouds  of  d<insa  black  smoke.  Shells  cross  and  recross  each  other 
at  every  conceivable  angle  ;  those  of  the  fort  plunging  into  the 
river  with  fearful  rapidity,  sending  the  white  spray  high  in  the  air, 
or  striking  against  the  ironsides  of  some  vessel,  making  it  creak 
and  quiver  through  every  timber. 

The  five  boats  respond  with  equal  energy,  and  a  sixth,  some- 
what modestly  in  t^be  rear  of  the  others,  sends  her  conical  shot  at 
rapid  intervals  into  the  fort. 

Now  the  leaden  conflict  rages  with  renewed  vigor;  shell  and 
shot  pour  like  rain  over  everything.  See !  the  Essex,  mistress  of 
the  fleet,  reels  and  plunges — she  is  struck,  disabled.  She  pauses 
for  a  moment  then  turning  about  retires  from  the  scene. 

The  gunners  of  the  fort  point  their  guns  with  precision.  Then 
bursts  forth  a  wild  and  stunning  explosion.  Another  boat  is 
pierced  in  her  iron  casements,  and  her  timbers  creak  and  crash 
and  splinter  in  the  air.  A  few  moments  later,  and  another  is 
struck,  which  makes  her  metal  sides  ring.  Her  guns  are  silenced. 
She  writhes  and  quivers  like  some  dread  monster  in  his  death 
throes,  and  is  withdrawn  from  the  conflict. 

The  remaining  boats  keep  up  a  rapid  fire.  The  batteries  fail  to 
respond.  Ah,  they  are  at  last  silenced.  The  foe  has  triumphed 
amid  his  destruction.  But  the  delusion  lasts  but  for  a  moment. 
A  fearful  shock  rends  the  air,  as  a  broadside  from"  the  fort  pours 
into  the  two  remaining  boats  and  sends  them  reeling  and  drifting 
down  the  stream. 

The  foe  is  vanquished — his  fleet  crippled.  Shout  after  shout, 
long,  loud,  victorious,  rings  forth  on  the  cold  winter  air,  as  the  men 
behold  the  haughty  foe  driven  from  his  unholy  undertaking. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  49 

Two  days  bad  passed,  and  yet  the  garrison,  famished,  freezing, 
overcome  by  incessant  duty,  held  out..  Yea,  far  more;  they  had 
repnised  the  hosts  of  the  enemy  on  land,  and  shattered  his  mighty 

It  was  night,  cold,  freezing,  rayless.  The  weary  men  again  laid 
themselves  down  on  their  arms  in  the  wet  and  muddy  trenches,  to 
snatch  what  sleep  they  could.   ■ 

At  headquarters  Generals  Floyd,  Pillow  and  Buckner  sat  in 
grave  consultation.  The  question  was,  "  what  should  be  done  on 
the  following  day  ? "  Should  the  garrison  remain  in  the  entrench- 
ments and  attempt  to  vanquish  the  attacking  foe.  or  should  they 
endeavor  to  out  their  way  out,  and  fall  back  mi  Nashville?  It 
was  known  that  throughout  the  day  Heavy  reinforcements  had  been 
received  by  the  enemy,  and  that  he  had  so  disposed  himself  as 
even  now  to  almost  completely  envelope  the  fort.  His  gunboats 
would  command  the  river,  thereby  cutting  off  all  reinforcements! 
and  supplies  from  Cumberland  City.  The  question  was  a  serious 
one,  and  requited  grave  consideration.  The  men  were  greatly  ex- 
hausted through  fighting  and  loss  of  sleep,  and  it  was  felt  that 
unless  they  could  be  relieved  by  fresh  troops,  it  would  be  impos- 
sible for  them  to  hold  out  more  than  one  dfty  longer. 

The  question  was  fully  debated.  Each  General  unreservedly 
expressed  his  opinion.  At  length  it  was  determined  that  the  gar- 
rison, if  it,  were  possible,  should  cut  its  way  out,  and  thus  attempt 
io  gain  the  open  country  south  of  the  fort.  N 

1 1  was  a  fearful  alternative  for  men  weary,  htmgry,  stiff  with 
cold,  their  clothes  frozen  to  their  bodies,  many  of  them  with  infe- 
rior guns,  to  make  their  passage  through  quadruple  their  number 
of  fresh  troops,  well  armed  and  supported  by  heavy  batteries  and 
gunboats.  Vet  desperate  as  it  was,  it  was  the  only  thing  left  for 
those  brave  men  to  do. 

Well  may  we  stand  aghast  and  our  hearts  cease  their  beatings 
while  we  contemplate  the  dr  ndful  picture. 

It  was  agreed  in  general  council  that  at  daylight  the  next  morn- 
ing, General  Pillow  should  attack  the  right  wing  of  the  enemy, 
resting  on  the  river,  while  General  Buckner,  with  his  forces,  should 
make  an  effort  to  drive  him  back  on  the  Winn's  Ferry  road,  and, 
if  successful  in  the  attempt,  the  two  forces  were  then  to  mute  ami 
pursue  their  way  through  the  open  country  southward  towards 
Nashville. 

Confident  of  on  the  following  morning,  the  enemy,  hav- 

ing disposed  of  his  for.  I  quietly  through  the  night.    He 

felt  that  his  victim  was  immeshed,  and  he  could,  at  his  leisure, 
overcome  and  destroy  it. 


50  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE  \ 


CHAPTER  X. 


SATURDAY  S    FIGHT. 


The  morning  came,  cold  and  dreary.  At  an  early  hour  the 
men  were  called  from  their  sleepless  night  in  the  trenches,  to  pre- 
pare for  the  day's  conflict.  Ah,  and  such  a  conflict  the  world  has 
rarely  ever  witnessed.  Brave  men  of  Donelson,  honor,  everlast- 
ing honor,  must  needs  be,  your  meed  from  a  grateful  and  admiring 
nation  !  And  when  you  have  passed  away,  and  we,  having  con- 
quered this  bloody  struggle,  shall  stand  forth  a  free,  happy  and 
prosperous  people,  to  have  fought  at  Donelson  will  be  a  nobler 
fame  than  to  have  conquered  on  the  battle-plains  of  Waterloo. 

At  the  signal  the  men  seized  their  arms,  fell  into  line,  and  fol- 
lowing their  leaders,  pressed  forward  to  the  carnage  Gen.  Pil- 
low marched  upon  the  right  wing  of  the  enemy,  whom  he  found  in 
advance  of  his  encampment,  ready  to  receive  him.  And  now  came 
one  of  the  most  sanguinary  struggles  recorded  in  the  annals  of 
any  war. 

The  Confederates,  whose  watchword  was  victory  or  death, 
drove  upon  the  mighty  foe,  sending  volley  after  volley  into  his 
serried  ranks,  everywhere  dealing  death  and  ruin.  But  the  enemy, 
confident  in  his  numbers,  replied  with  courage  and  determination  ; 
and  as  quigkly  as  his  lines  were  thinned  they  were  filled  up  with 
fresh  forces.  On  pressed  the  garrison,  to  triumph  or  the  grave — 
they  eared  but  little  which,  as  they  confronted  the  vile  invader  of 
their  soil. 

Stubbornly  were  their  fierce  onsets  met,  the  sullen  foe  fighting 
with  unwonted  valor.  Charge  succeeded  charge,  as  fiercer  and 
fiercer  grew  the  bloody  strife.  The  thick  ranks  of  1  he  foe  were 
thinnsd  but  to  be  supplied  with  fresh  victims  for  the  slaughter. 

The  earth  shook  with  the  fury  of  the  battle,  while  the  air  re- 
sounded with  the  roar  of  cannon  and  the  loud  peals  of  the  rifle  and 
musket.  The  dead  and  wounded  fell  on  every  side,  trampled  to 
the  earth  beneath  the  feet  of  the  onward  moving  columns.  At 
length,  after  the  most  desperate  resistance,  the  foe  wavered.  For- 
ward rushed  our  forces  upon  them  with  the  fury  of  enraged  mad- 
men'. But  the  enemy  was  not  routed,  and  as  the  Southerners 
charged,  they  were  met  by  a  fierce  and  destructive  fire.  But  the 
advantage  gained  must  not  be  lost,  and  with  renewed  determina- 
tion the  Confederates  dashed  on.  Inch  by  inch  the  foe  receded, 
contesting  every  step  with  fearful  obstinacy.    But  at  length,  after 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN  51 

six  hours'   engagement,  they  were  compelled  to  yield  before  the 
impetuosity   of  men  fighting  for  their  lives.     The  held  was  woo. 
And  shouts  thai  made  the  heavens,  ring  went,  up  from  the  victo- 
3  they  saw  the  enemy  driven  before  them. 

Gen.  Buckiier,  as  was  agreed,  attacked  the  forces  that  were 
massed  against  his  left.  Desperate  beyond  conception  was  the 
engagement  between  this  small  band  of  heroes  and  the  formidable 
hosts  of  the  opposer.  The  enemy  were  stronger  here  than  in 
front  of  0'ii.  Pillow's  position,  and  fought  with  a  steady  determi- 
nation rarely  exhibited  by  them.'    The  contending  columns  swayed 

id  fro,  as  first  one  and  then  the  other  gained  t  he  ad  van; 
The  fighting  on  all  parts  of  the  field  was  of  the  most  desperate 
character. 

Never  was  there  witnessed  a  wilder  scene  of  combat.  For,  as 
rank  after  rank  of  tin-  enemy  fell  ln-fore  the  furious  onset,  the 
doomed  victims  rushed  in  to  till  their  vacant  places.  On  moved 
the  garrison  like  an  "Alpine  avalanche,"  sweeping  everything 
before  it.  The  battle-field  was  one  of  aWful  sublimity.  The 
shrieks  of  the  wounded  and  dying  mingled  with  the  roar  of  can- 
non and  the  clash  of  musketry  in  one  loud  deafening  din.  Bullets 
cut  the  air  with  sharp  whizzing  as  they  sped  on  their  mission  of 
death. 

The  foe  was  repulsed,  routed,  and  the,  couquerers  mingled  their 
shouts  and  cheers  with  those  of  their  victorious  comrades  under 
Cen.  Pillow. 

The  enemy  was  defeated,  driven  back.  The  plan  devised  by 
the  council  of  Confederate  officers  had  succeeded  admirably.  A 
way  of  t  scape  ha  !  been  opined  for  the  brave  and  gallant  garrison 
by  n- own  noble  achievements.  Quadruple  its  own  strength  of 
fresh  troops  had  been  driven  back  by  men  "worn  with  watching, 
with  labor,  with  fighting 

Unfading  laurels  will  ever  wreath  the  br»ws  of  the  heroes  of 
that  memorable  15th  of  February,  Is 

Cen.  Buckner's  division  having  driven  back  the  entire  force  of 
the  enemy  to  the  right  of  the  Winn's  Ferry  road,  leaving  this 
route  and  the  Forge  Road  open  for  the  egress  of  the  garrison,  were 
awaiting  the  arrival  of  their  artillery  and  the  reserves  that  had 
been  left  to  hold  the  trenches,  when  General  1  uckner  received 
imperative  orders  to  fall  back  to  the  entrenchments  on  the  ex- 
treme right. 

Surprised,  shocked,  stunned  at  such  a  command  at  such  a  time, 
and  under  such  circumstances,  he  could  not  believe  that  it  had 
emanated  from  the  commantling  General. 

To  retire  hack  to  the  entrenchments,  and  thus  place  themselves 
again  in  the  power  of  the  foe,  and  that,  too,  at  the  point  when  the 
object  for  which  the  men  had  fought  desperately  for  seven  hours, 
was  fully  gained,  seemed  to  him  madness  of  the  wildest  nature. 
To  fall  back  was  the  certain  destruction  of  the  entire  Confederate 


52  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

force.  To  advance  from  their  present  safe  position  would  be  the 
salvation  of  the  whole  garrison. 

Galloping  back  to  the  lines,  he  encouutered  General  Floyd,  and 
made  known  to  him  the  orders  he  had  received.  The  command- 
ing  General,  surprised,  astonished,  pronounced  it  a  mistake. 

"Wait,  General,"  replied  General  Floyd  to  General  Buokner. 
"Let  me  look  into  this.  Remain  in  your  present  position  until  I 
can  converse  with  General  Pillow." 

In  a  very  short  time  after  this  meeting,  Gen.  Buckner  received 
reiterated  orders  to  repair  as  rapidly  as  he  could  to  his  former 
position  on  the  extreme  right. 

Nothing  was  left  him  hut  to  obey,  although  he  knew  that  he  and 
his  men   were  going  back  to  c'ertain  death,  or  inevitable  surrender. 

Two  miles  of  retreat  were  trod  by  the  weary  and  now  disheart- 
ened men.  On  nearing  their  entrenchments,  they  found  the  right 
of  their  position  already  occupied  by  the  enemy.  A  desperate 
fight  ensued,  in  which  the  Confederates  succeeded  in  keeping  at 
Hay  about  five  times  their  number. 

Xight  closed  the  dreadful  scene.  The  enemy  occupied  the  Con- 
federate works  on  General  Buckner's  right,  ready  to  resume  the 
attack  with  overwhelming  force  as  soon  as  the  morning  should 
dawn.  The  fort  was  soon  reinvested  by  the  enemy  with  the  fresh 
reinforcements  received,  as  was  shown  by  a  thorough  reconnois- 
sance  made  by  Colonel  Forrest.  And  thus,  after  three  days'  hard 
fighting,  hardships,  privations  and  sufferings,  such  as  soldiers  have 
rarely  ever  been  called  on  to  endure,  after  having  once  extricated 
itself — through  the  want  of  prudence  and  generalship  of  General 
Pillow,  the  heroic  garrison  was  caught  in  the  toils — doomed —  ac- 
rificed. 

A  sad  page  in  our  country's  history.  Would  it  had  never  been 
written. 

Again  the  dreary  night  came  down  over  the  earth,  wrapping  in 
its  folds  of  thick  darkness  that  appalling  seene  of  carnage. 

In  a  tent  there  sat  the  commanding  officers  of  1  he  garrison, 
grave,  sad,  thoughtful.  They  had  essayed  the  daring  effort  of 
cutting  their  way  out,  hut'  found  themselves,  after  a  successful 
effort,  back  again  in  their  old  position,  and  again  environed  by  tha 
wily  foe.  Their  men  had  fought  like  heroes,  but  now  they  were 
exhausted,  and  could  fight  no  longer.  They  could  not  escape 
secretly,  for  the  enemy  completely  surrounded  them,  leaving  no 
possible  outlet.  The  command  and  position  must  be  surrendered 
to  the  victorious  foe — a  sad,  but  only  alternative. 

Everywhere  were  the  horrid  witnesses  to  that  fearful  struggle, 
which,  for  nine  dreadful  hours,  had  raged  in  wildest  fury.  Men — 
dead;  dying,  mangled — horses,  gun  carriages,  broken  muskets,  car- 
tridge boxes,  knapsacks — all  the  paraphernalia  of  war — lay  scat- 
tered in  one  wild  welter.  Foe  grasped  foe  for  the  death  struggle, 
and  together  fell  clenched  in  each  other's  gripe,  while  their  pallid 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  5o 

faces  wore  the  look  of  deadly  hate,  which  had  filled  their  hi 
in  life. 

Three  days  of  the  most  desperate  fighting  the  .world  has  ever 
known,  had  passed.  The  little  garrison,  completely  overcome,  lay 
asleep  on  the  cold  frozen  earth.  Men  dropped  from  their  position 
while  standing,  unable  to  hear  up  any  longer  under  their  dread  ex- 
haustion. Some  of  the  little  band  had  fallen  on  the  ensanguined 
field,  nt  hers- were  prostrated  through  fatigue  andjexposure.  All 
weary    and   faintii  /  never  dreamed  of  yielding.      i 

looked    to   the   morrow   for  a  renewal  of  the  fight  they 

dreamed  not  of  the  humiliating  fate  that  awaited  them. 

Again  in  council  sat  the  officers,  this- time  more  grave,  more 
thoughtful  thao  before.     Death  or  surrender  was  now  the  el, 
There  was  nothing  else  left  them. 

Each  of  the  three  ( ienerals,  Floyd,  Pillow,  and  Buckner,  had 
expressed  his  respective  opinion*  They  were  found  to  differ — (ien. 
Pillow,  believing  it  yet  possibly  to  cut  their  way  out — Gen.  Buok- 
ner  demurring,  regarding  the  project  as  one  invorving  extreme 
hazard  and  a  useless  sacrifice  of 

Silence  ensued.     A  scout  was  ushered  in. 

"The  enemy  re-occupies  the  lines  front  which  we  drove,  him 
during  the  daj ." 

"  1  think  the  man  must  be  mistaken,''  said  ("ien.  Pillow.  "Send 
out  another  Boout.'.' 

"I  am  confident  the  enemy  will  attaok  my  lin^s  by  light, 
owing    to   the   condition   erf  my   men,  I   cannot  hold  them  a  half 
hour,"  said  Gen,  Buckner. 

"Why  so  i      Why   so,  General  ?"  interrogated.  General  Pillow. 

"  Because  I  can   bring  into  action  not  over  four  thousand  men. 
and    they    demoralized    by    long  and   uninterrupted  exposure  and 
hard  lighting,  while  he  can  bring  large  numbers  of  fresh  trqp] 
the  attack."  , 

"  1  differ  with  you,  General,"  responded  Pillow,  nervously.  "  1 
think  you  can  bold  your  lines.     I  think  you  can.  sir." 

"llomic  my  position,"  firmly  answered  General  Buckner.  '•  I 
know  the  lines  cannot  be  held  by  my  troops-  in  their  present  con- 
dition."/' 

"Then,"  interposed  General  Floyd,  "a  capitulation  is  all  that 
is  left  us." 

'•  1  do  not  think  so,"  was  the  quick  response  of  Gen.  Pillow. — 
"  At  any  rate  we  can  cut  our  way  out." 

"To  cut  our  way  out  would  cost  us  three-fourths  of  our  men, 
even  if  we  should  succeed  at  all ;  and  i  do  not,  think  any  com- 
mander has  a  right  to  sacrifice  three-fourths 'of  his  command  to 
save  one-fourth,"'  responded  the  noble  Buckner. 

The  secoud  scout  entered  the  room. 

"  The  enemy  completely  surround  us.  Our  works  are  fully  in- 
vested." 


54  RAIDS  AND  EOMANCE 

"  Send  out  scouts  to  see  if  the  back  water  can  be  passed  by  the 
army.'* 

The  command  was  immediately  obeyed,,  two  of  Colonel  Forrest's 
cavalry  being  despatched  for  that  purpose. 

Soon  they  return,  and  report,  "  Cavalry  can  pass — infantry  can- 
not." 

"  Well,  gentlemen,  what  are  we  to  do  1"  asked  General  Buckner, 
on  the  reception  of  this  intelligence. 

"  -Understand  me,  gentlemen,  responded  Gen.  Pillow,  "  I  am 
for  holding  out  at  least  a  day  longer — getting  boats  and  crossing 
the  command  over  the  river.  As  for  myself,  I  will  never  surren- 
der.   I  will  die  first." 

"Nor  will  I,"  interposed  General  Floyd.  "  I  can  not  and  will 
not  surrender,  but,  I  must,  confess,  personal  reasons  control  me." 

"But  such  considerations  should  never  control  a  General's  ac- 
tions," responded  the  heroic  Buckner.  "  I  see  nothing  that  can 
be  done  but  to  yield  the  command  and  the  position.  It  is  humili- 
ating, it  is  true,  deeply  humiliating,  to  be  driven  to  surrender  to 
such  a  foe ;  but  as  we  are,  unfortunately,  placed  in  a  position 
where  all  the  dictates  of  humanity  require  it,  it  is  best,  in  my 
judgment,  that  it  should  be  done." 

"  I  shall  never  surrender,  General  Bdfekner,  responded  General 
Pillow,  warmly.  "  I  go  out  from  here  a  free  man,  or  die  where  I 
stand.  I  shall  surrender  to  Grant  neither  the  command.,  nor  my- 
self." 

General  Buckner  sat  calm,  grave,  thoughtful.  He  had  been 
overruled  in  his  decision.  Should  he  fall  into  the  hands  of  the 
hated  foe,  he  had  more  to  meet,  perhaps,  than  either  of  the  other 
commanders.  He  knew  the  sword  of  vengeance  had  been  whetted 
against  him  by  his  enemies  at  home,  who  stood  ready i  whenever- 
he  should  fall  into  their  power,  to  lead  him  to  the  block.  He 
could  hope  for  no  clemency  at  their  hands.  They  had  denounced 
him  as  a  "  base  traitor,"  a  seducer  of  the  young,  a  "  felon  whose 
only  doom  should  be  the  gallows."  He  knew  that  scorn  and  con- 
tempt would  be  heaped  upon  him;  that  he  would  be  made  the  butt 
of  ridicule  and  low  jest;  would  be  inveighed  against  by  the  press 
of  his  own  city,  and  held  up  to  his  fellow-men  as  a  wretch  whose 
crime  merited  the  most  ignominious  punishment,  All  this  he 
knew,  and  as  a  brave,  honorable  man,  he  felt  that  to  die  wonld  be 
naught  compared  with  a  fate  like  this.  But  there  were  his  brave 
men  around  him. 

They  had  fought  with  a  daring  never  surpassed.  He  thought 
of  their  wives  and  parents,  many  of  whom  Were  personally  known 
to  him.  Must  he  sacrifice  them  to  spare  himself  this  deep  abase- 
ment ?  No!  no  ! !  He  would  save  his  men  from  death  and  share 
their  fate.  Thrice  noble  man !'  Among  the  honorable  names 
which  shall  make  the  page  of  history  illustrious  there  will  stand 
none  more  glorious  than  that  of  the  hero  of  Donelson — the  truly 
brave,  the  sublimely  heroic  Buckner. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  55 

"  You  have  decided  against  me,  gentlemen,  and  I  do  not  wish  to 
seem  to  oppose  you ;  but  my  judgment  is  unalterably  against  your 
proposition.  I  cannot  consent  to  sacrifice  my  men  in  this  fearful 
experiment." 

"Will  you  take  command,  Gen.  Buckner,  and  release  us?" 
asked  Gen.  Floyd  of  him.  "  If  you  decide  to  remain,  and  will 
surrender  the  Fort,  I  will  pass  tin.' command  to  you  through  General 
Pillow.  1  am  unyielding  in  my  purpose  to  go  out,  kt  it  cost  what 
it  may.*' 

General  Buckner  expressed  his  willingness  to  accept  the  com- 
mand. 

General  Floyd  said,  "  I  turn  over  the  command." 

"  I  pass  it.  I  will  not  surrender,"  responded  General  Pillow, 
quickly. 

General  Buckner  immediately  called  for  pen,  ink,  paper  and  a 
bugler. 

••  Well,  General,  will  I  be  permitted  to  take  my  brigade  out,  if 
lean?"  interrogated  Gen.  Floyd. 

"  Certainly  ;  if  you  can  gel  them  out  before  the  terms  of  capitu- 
lation are  agreed  on,"  was  the  reply. 

The  two  Generals  made  what  hurried  preparations  were  neces- 
sary, and  gathering  together  as  many  of  their  command  as  was 
possible,  led  the  Fort  ;  and  when  daylight  came  they  were  beyond 
the  reach  of  the  enemy. 

Cen.  Buckner  immediately  sent  a  (lag  of  truce  to  Gen.  Grant, 
bearing  the  following  proposition  : 

HBADQUARTEIta   Foist  Ponelson.  ? 
Feb.  16th,  1868.  $ 

Sm: — In  consideration  of  all  the  circumstances  governing  the  present  situ- 
ation  of  affairs  at  this  station,  ]  propose  to  the  commanding  officer  of  the  Fed- 
eral forces  the  appointment  of  commissioners  to  agree  upon  terms  of  capitula- 
tion Of  t hit*  forces  and  Port  under  my  command,  aud  in  that  view  suggest  an 
armistice  until  12  o'clock  to-day. 

To  which  Grant  replied  in  the  following  terms,  alike  unworthy 
of  a  gentleman  and  an  officer: 

Slit : — Yours  of  this  date,  proposing  an  armistice  and  appointment  ©f  com- 
missioners to  settle  terms  of  capitulation,  isjuBt  received. 
No  terms,  except  unconditional  and  immediate  surrender,  can  be  accepted. 

I  propose  to  move  immediately  on  your  works. 

To  which  Gen.  Buckner  responded  : 

Sir  : — The  distribution  ot  the  forces  under  my  command,  incident  to  an  .un- 
expected ohange  of  commanders  and  the  overwhelming  force  under  your  com- 
mand, compel  me,  notwithstanding  the  brilliant  success  of  the  Confederate 
arms  yesterday,  to  accept  the  ungenerous  and  unchivalrous  terms  which  you 
propose. 


■■: 


56  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 


CHAPTER  XL 


THE      SURRENDER. 


t 


Weary  men  slept  on,  all  unconscious  of  the  dreadful  fate  that 
awaited  them.  They  were  dreaming  of  the  battle-field  and  of 
victory. 

Morning  came.  The  black  leaden  clouds  of  winter  hung  like  a 
dark  funeral  pall  over  the  doomed  Fort.'  All  was  still  as  grim 
Death,  who  held  his  dread  and  silent  banquet  over  the  gory  battle- 
field. 

The  reveille  was  sounded.  Men  arose  from  their  death-like 
sleep  and  grasped  their  arms,  to  rush,  to  the  contest.  But  no 
sound  of  booming  cannon  met  their  ear,  no  warlike  movements 
greeted  their  eye. 

What  could  all  this  mean  ?  Had  the  enemy,  foiled  in  his  at- 
tempt, withdrawn  1  Surely  this  must  be  so,  else  why  this  silent 
apathy.  They  look  out  through  the  gray  mist,  and  there,  waving 
in  the  morning  light,  is  the  white  flag  of  surrender.  Soon  the 
dreadful  intelligence  runs  through  the  ranks.  They  are  the  pris- 
oners of  the  hated  foe.  Never,  never  will  they  submit  to  this  ig- 
nominy. Sooner  shall  their  own  swords  drink  their  life-blood, 
than  they  become  the  scoff  and  butt  of  Yankee  vengeance.  The 
whole  garrison  was  mof ed  as  one  man  to  oppose  this  shameful 
fate.  Some  cursed  the  treachery  of  tuNir  commanders.  Others 
swore  to  be  revenged  on  those  who  had  sacrificed  them.  Some 
sat  sad  and  dejected,  stupified  by  the  stunning  blow,  while  many 
a  stout  man  wept  like  an  infant,  when  he  read  his  humiliating 
doom. 

Resistance  was  useless  now.  The  die  was  cast.  On  came  the 
Yankee  conquerors.  Strains  of  martial  music  heralded  their  ap- 
proach. 

Silent  in  his  tent  sat  Gen.  Buckner.  His  tried  and  faithful  staff 
were  around  him.  They  truly  sympathized  with  him,  but  they 
dinew'  the  vanity  of  words  in  such  a  trial  as  this,  and  they  at- 
tempted no  consolation.  Each  fully  approved  of  his  course  in  the 
surrender.  They  knew  it  was  all  he  could  do,  and  every  man  ex- 
pressed himself  ready  t©  share  his  leader's  fate,  let  it  be  whatever 
it  might. 

Everything  in  the  Fort  was  taken  possession  of  by  the  victors, 
even  thfc  private  baggage  of  the  soldiers.  The  Yankee  General 
Grant,  issued  orders  to  the  garrison  to  be  ready  for  transportation 
to  Northern  camps. 


V 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  57 

Charley — as  all  of  his  Kentucky  copatriota — had  fought  gal- 
lantly under  the  leadership  of  the  daring  Hanson.  Exhausted , 
trembling  in  every  nerve  with  fatigue  and  cold,  he  and  young 
Lawrence  sat  beside  each  other,  stupified  under  oonsciousnes 
being  captives  in  the  hands  of  the  Yankees.  Silently  they  ob- 
served the  movements  of  the  victors,  as  they  passed  from  group 
to  group,  demanding  the  surrender  of  the  prisoners'  arms. 

"  1  have  fought  for  three  days,  John  ;'  I  have  slept  in  those 
muddy  trench)  »ed  to  dji^ring  snow  and  sleet;  have  gone 

without  a  mouthful  of  foofc  for  twenty-four  hours;  my  feet 
iVn-t -Kitten,  and  my  clothes  are  frozen  on  me,  but  I  would  rather 
endure  all  this   a  thousand  times  over  than  to  go  to  one  of  those 
Yankee  prisons." 

"  And  so  would  I,  Charley.  But  what  can  we  do.  We  cannot 
help  ourselves.  It's  all  that  is  lefl  us  now.  Look  at  that  das- 
tardly pack  of  thieves.  See,  they  are  demanding  Bob's  mi 
They  have  taken  his  arms  from  him.  and  now  they  will  rob  him. 
But  he'll  not  <_ri\v  it  up.  Listen,  he  is  cursing  them  :  and 
they  cower  before  him — and  two  to  om — and  he  a  prisoner  without 
arms." 

"Let's  break  our  irons,  John.  [  can*  never  yield  mine  to  the 
wretches.     I  feel  it  would  he  an  eternal  di- 

"Agreed,  Charley.  But  we'll  have  to  be  quick  about  it.  They'll 
be  upon  us  direct!.. 

The  two  stepped  behind  a  tent,  and  battering  their  arms  as  well 
as  they  could,  threw  them  into  a  ditch. 

"There,"  said  John,  as  he  dashed  his  into  the  mud  with  all  his 
might,  "  I  am  saved  that  humiliation,  anyhow.  And  if  one  of 
the  cowardly  thieves  dares  to  insult  me,  I'll  knock  him  over,  if  he 
shoots  me  tor  it  1  he  next  minute."' 

"  I  could  hear  this  thing  better,  John,  if  it  were  not  for  mother. 
You  know  how  bitterly  she  opposed  my  coming  to  the  army,  and 
I  know  she  will  be  frantic  when  she  hears  1  am  a  prisoner.  1  be- 
lieve I'll  try  to  escape.  It  may  be' that  L  can  overtake  those  meu 
who  went  out  early  this  morning," 

"Good,"  answered   John,  "let's    try    it.     We  can  get  bej 
the  intrenchnieiits  and  seorel  ourselves  until  the  army  le^es  here, 
and  may  be  can  reach  some  friendly  house  where  we  can  get  shel- 
ter until  we  rest   and  recruit.     I  don't  believe  1  can  live  tw 
four  hours  longer  in  this  condition." 

The  two  took  from  their  haversacks  the  morsei  of  bread  they 
contained,  and  having  carefully  looked  around  them  to  see  if  dan- 
ger was  near,  they,  undercover  of  the  tents,  passed  the  last  trench 
and  set  out  on  their  proposed  plan  of  escape. 


58  EAIDS  AND  EOMANCE 


CHAPTER  XIL 


REMOVAL      TO'  PRISON. 


As  stealthily  as  tbey  could,  avoiding  every  appearance  of  dan- 
ger, the  two  young  soldiers  moved  on  until  they  had  placed  a 
slight  elevation  between  their  position  and  the  Fort.  Just  before 
them  was  some  underbrush.  If  they  could  but  reach  it,  they 
would  be  safe.  They  paused  and  looked  around,  to  see  if  any 
one  was  in  view.  No  one  was  near  enough  to  watch  their  move- 
ments. Quickening  their  pace  into  a' run,  they  sprang  forward  to- 
ward the  covert.  Like  men  running  for  life,  they  bounded  on- 
ward, every  muscle  strained  for  the  race. 

They  had  almost  geined  it,  when  suddenly  a  coarse  voice  called 
out,  "  Halt,  or  I'll  shoot  you."  At  the  same  time  a  squad  of  Lin- 
coln soldiers  appeared,  emerging  from  the  bushes.  , 

Resistance  would  have  been  folly  ;  they  were  outnumbered,  four 
to  one.  To  attempt  to  elude  their  captors  was  impossible.  There 
was  nothing  left  them  but  to  obey  the  command. 

With  loud  oaths  and  fiendish  imprecations. they  were  immedi- 
ately marched  back  to  the  Fort ;  from  thence  to  the  river,  where 
boats  were  in  waiting  to  transport  the  prisoners  to  their  destina- 
tion. 

Charley  and  his  friend,  young  Lawrence,  were  placed  on  the 
same  vessel  with  Gen.  Buckner,  his  staff,  and  the  Kentucky  officers. 
In  this  they  regarded  themselves  most  fortunate,  for  many  of  the 
2d  Kentucky  were  hurried  into  other  boats". 

The  prisoners  were  taken  from  the  Fort  to  Cairo.  From  there 
they  were  shipped  by  river  and  railway  to  other  points.  Some 
were  sent  to  St.  Louis,  others  to  Alton,  some  to  Camp  Douglas, 
some  to  Camp  Butler,  while  others  were  forwarded  by  the  Ohio 
river  to  JelFersonville,  on  their  route  to  Camp  Chase.  Subjected  to 
ever  in||lt,  treated  as  if  they  had  been  brutes,  rather  than  men, 
these  noble  patrfots  ,who  had  won  for  themselves  imperishable 
fame,  were  hurried  by  their  vengeful  captors  to' their  various 
places  of  imprisonment.  Wholly  ununiformed,  their  clothes  torn 
in  the  desperate  fight,  and  begrimed  with  mud  and  powder;  their 
coverings  of  every  conceivable  character — blankets  of  all  colors, 
shawls  of  every  variety,  carpets  of  various  patterns-— these  heroes 
of  Donelson  indeed  presented  a  sad  and  touching  spectacle. 

And  yet  ?uch  was  the  brutality  and  heartlessness — such  the 
entire  destitution  of  every  emotion  of  humanity  in  the  hearts  of 
these  vulgar,  sunken  wretches,  that  they  jeered  arid  scoffed,  and 
with  low  and  cruel  inockery 'taunted  their  helpless  prisoners.     But, 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  59 

helpless  as  they  were  in  the  hands  of  a  base  and  inhuman  foe,  in 
garb  looking  worse  by  far  than  tlieir  slaves  at  borne  on  their  plan- 
tations, they  nevertheless  remembered  they  were  born  free  men,  and 
on  every  occasion  they  hurled  back  with  defiant  scorn  the  ruthless 
jests  of  their  eoarse  and  ill-bred  assailants. 

Never,  perhaps,  did  the  su  erior  nobility  of  the  Southern  char- 
acter speak  out  in  more  striking  contrast  to  the  natural  Goara 
and  hearllessness  of  their  vulgar  foe,  than  on  this  memorable 
casion. 

('eneral  Buckner  and  staff,  the  officers,  and  some  of  the  men  of 
the  2d  Kentucky,  were  sent  from  Paducah  on  board  a  steamer  to 
Jefferson ville,  Indiana. 

Among  the  privates  who  were  forwarded  by  this  route  were 
Charley,  young  Lawrence,  and  another  Kentuckian  named  Bob 
Reed. 

"  I  wonder  if  it  is  possible  they  will  allow  M  to  land  at  L< 
ville,''  Said  Charley  to  his  friend,  as  the  two  stood  shivering  with 
cold  on  the  upper  deck  of  the  boat.    "  I  do  believe  they  will  be 
afraid  to  do  so,  lest  there  should  be  some  demonstration  in  our  fa- 
JRrOT." 

"  Wby,  Charley,  if  is  4  loyal  city.  There  are  no  traitors  there 
to  make  any  manifestation  of  sympathy  for  such  poor,  miserable 
wretches  as  toe  </r<\"  replied  young  Lawrence,  ironically. 

"Could  thi'  Southern,  men  of  Louisville  once  catch  a  glimpa 
C4eneral  Buckner,  and  know  for  a  moment^what  shameful  humilia- 
tion lie  has  to  endure  at  the  hands  of  these  wretches,  they  would 
rescue  him  from  their  clutches,  if*  it  cost  them  their  lives.  I  do 
hope  they  will  land  us  there,  if  it  be  but  for  a  few  minutes.  I 
know  there  will  be  crowds  of  friends  to  welcome  and  cheer  us  ; 
but  I  fear  our  enemies  will  not  be  thus  kind  to  us.  It  would  de- 
light them  to  tantalize  Buckner,  Cassiday,  Johl  nel  Han- 
Bqn,  and  all  of  us,  by  giving  us  only  a  farewell  glimpse  of  our  be- 
loved city."                                — 

As  old  memories,  sacred  and  clear,  rushed  to  Charley's  mind,  he 
wept.  It  was  the  first  time  lie  had  shed  a  tear  since  he  bad  fallen 
into  the  hands  of  the  victors. 

"  I  am  unmanned"  said  Charley,  recovering  himself,  after  a  few 
moments  ;  "  but  I  cannot  help  it,  John.  I  dread  the  idea  of  im- 
prisonment for  this  war.  I  would  a  thousand  times  rather  take  my 
chances  on  the  battle-field.  And  to  think  I  shall  pass  so  near  my 
parents  and  sisters,  and  yet  not  be  permitted  to  see  them !  It  makes 
me  a  child,  John." 

Ah,  and  there  was  another  whose  name  our  young  hero  dared 
not  mention.  What  joy  it  would  have  given  him  could  he  h 
felt,  assured  that  even  for  one  short  moment  he  should  behold  that 
dear  being — should  catch  from  these  cherished  lips  one  word — >>r 
from  those  soft  blue  eyes,  so  full  of  tender  affection,  one  look  of 
love. 


60  EAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

Great  was  the  excitement  in  Louisville  when  it  was  known  that 
the  boat  bearing  General  Buckner,  his  staff,  and  the  Kentucky 
prisoners  would  reach  the  wharf  that  day. 

The  "  Daily  Journal,"  in  each  issue  since  the  fall  of  Donelson, 
had  heaped  upon  General  Buckner  every  abuse  that  its  vindictive 
partizan  editor  could  conceive.  Every  opprobious  epithet  that  the 
language  could  afford — oftentimes  of  the  most  indelicate  nature — 
had  been  employed  to  make,  if  possible,  his  honorable  name  odious. 
Every  species  of  torture  that  the  fiendish  brain  of  Prentice  could 
invent,  had  been  proposed  to  be  inflicted  upon  him  by  the  citizens 
of  his  own  town.  He  had  been  called  "  infamous  wretch,"  "  vile 
seducer  of  the  young  men  of  Kentucky,"  "hellish  murderer  of  the 
husbands  and  sons  of  his  neighbors,"  "  double-dyed  traitor  to 
his  Government  and  State,"  "  fiend,"  "  assassin,"  "  brute."  This 
Connecticut  reared  editor  had  said  he  ought  to  suffer,  if  possible, 
a  thousand  deaths  on  the  gallows,  to  expiate  his  crime,  fie  also 
proposed  "  that  he  should  be  shown  through  the  city  in  a  cage, 
and  that  loyal  men  and 'women  should  torture  him  with  red-hot 
pincers."  That  he  should  be  doomed  to  a  felon's  cell,  and  there 
shut  out  from  the  light  of  day,  be  fed  on  bread  and  water  untU 
death  should  come  to  end  his  "infamous  life."     - 

As  might  be  expected,  such  things  had  wrought  on  the  fierce 
passions  of  the  mob  until  it  was  wild  with  vengeance.  Threats 
were  everywhere  uttered  against  the  distinguished  prisoner.  But 
General- Buckner  had  many  warm  friends  in  Louisville,  men  of  true 
courage  and,  high-toned  honor,  who  would  at  any  moment  have 
sacrificed  their  lives  rather  than  he  should  have  been  subjected  to 
public  scorn.  This  the  cowardly  editor  and  the  hireling  officials 
knew.  And  while  they  boasted  great  contempt  for  the  prisoner 
and  his  cause,  they  secretly  feared  the  influence  of  the  one  and 
respected  the  other.  And  while  through  tli-e  medium  of  their  per- 
verted press  they  were  deriding  and  abusing  him,  in  private  cau- 
cus, where  the  subject  was  seriously  discussed,  they  decided  it 
would  not  be  safe  to  suffer  the  blfat  to  land,  lest  there  should  be 
some  overwhelming  manifestation  of  respect  and  admiration  for 
the  patriot  and  his  fellow  prisoners. 

The  boat'Was  nearirlg  the  city.  It  was  believed,  by  those  on 
board,  that,  she  would  touch  at  the  wharf.  Their  hearts  leaped 
with  wild  emotion,  as  her  turrets  and  spires,  so  familiar,  shot  up  be- 
fore the  eager,  longing  gaze.  The  boat  ploughed  on  against  the 
current.  Nearer  and  nearer  they  approached  the  city.  With  fold- 
ed arms  and  proud  and  noble  mien,  General  Buckeer  stood  on  deck, 
his  staff  around  him.  Never  did  men  more  bespeak  the  majesty 
of  conscious  right  than  did  that  silent  group,  as  they  stood  there, 
triumphant  in  their  defeat,  sublimely  strong  in  their  apparent  weak- 
ness. They  were  stigmatized  by  their  deluded,  vindictive  country- 
men as  trailers  ;  they  had  been  the 'recipient  of  every  abuse  and 
It,  the.  objects  of  malignant  hate  and  contemptuous  scorn. — 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  r,\ 

They  "were  prisoners  in  the  hands  of  a  cruel  and  unprincipled  foe. 
Their  doom  they  knew  would  be  fearful — perhaps  life-loner  impris- 
onment— perhaps  a  violent  death.  Should  the  cause  they  bad  es- 
poused fail  to  succeed,  in  all  future  history  their  names  would  be 
handed  down  to  posterity  covered  with  infamy.  This  was  the  bit- 
terest thought  of  all.  To  an  honorable  man,  disgrace  is  far  more 
dreadful  than  direst  pan  atn. 

Motionless  and  pale  with  anxiety,  Charley  stood  leaning  on  the 
railing.  He  was  alone,  busy  with  his  own  thoughts,  which,  to  h'im, 
were  too  sacred  for  the  intrusion  of  his  dearest  friend.  Portland 
was  passed,  and  the  lower  wharf  of  the  city  reached,  yet  the  boat 
kept  steadily  on  her  course.  No  signs  of  landing  were  to  be  ob- 
served. Jl is  heart  beat  wildly  with  alternate  hope  and  fear.  He 
beat  eagerly  forward  and  strained  his  gaze  to  catch  a  glimpse  of 
old,  familiar  objects.  The  boat  veered  to  the  right,  as  if  seeking 
the  shore  Oh!  how  his  pulses  leaped;  his  heart  quickened  its 
throbbings;  tears  he  could  not  surprcss  rushed  to  biseyes.  If  he 
could  hut  see  some  dear,  remembered  fare  ;  grasp,  even  for  a  mo- 
,  some  kindly  hand  ;  hear  (he  tones  of  some  familiar  voice  ;  it 
would  sweeten  the  bitter  cup,  gild  the  rayless  gloom.  It  was  a 
lent  of  torturing  suspense.  Street  after  street  is  pasted — the 
Jit;  yet  the  boat  moves  not  from  its  forward  course. 
The  landing  is  filled  with  spectators,  of  all  classes,  from  the^ad, 
sympathizing  friend,  to  the  vicious  Yankee  and  idly-gazing  negro. 
His  look  strains  itself  as  it  wanders  from  group  to  group,  search- 
ing  for  some  one  he   knows. 

Will    not  some  kindly  eye  see  him — shall  he  not  n  rnne 

token  of  recognition  '.  Surely,  there  must  be  smne  one  in  that 
vasi  assemblage  who  knows  him — some  weil  remembered  face  that 
he  will  soon  descry.  But  not  a  voice  is  heard — not  a  handkerchief 
waved.  As  fades  away  the  brilliant  mirage  of  the  desert  b< 
the  charmed  gaze,  and  leaves  behind  but  wild  wastes  and  burning 
sands  to  mock  fhe  eye  of  the  worn  traveler,  so  died  away  tin1  high 
and  cherished  hopes  of  the  heart  sick  soldier  boy,  and  naught  re- 
mained to  him  but  disappointment  and  bitter  tears.  The  crowd 
slam's  motionless,  gazing  on  the  scene.  The  prisoners  stand  mo- 
tionless, gazing  on  the  crowd.  The  boat  keeps  On — on — the,  last 
faint  hope  is  gune,  and  Charley's  heart,  strained  with  anxious  de- 
sire almost  to  bursting — sinks— dies — and  like  the  orphan  child 
who  sits  itself  down  to  weep  under  its  crushing  sense  of  loneli- 
ness, so  the  sad,  disappointed  prisoner,  burying  his  face  in  his 
trembling  hands,  wept  bitter  y. 

•  The  boat  landed  on  the  opposite  shore  at  Jeffersonville.  The 
prisoners  were  hurried  from  the  boat  pot,  where  the  cars 

were  under  steam  to  carry  them  to  Columbus,  Ohio.  As  they 
were  driven  along,  friends  from  Kentucky  lined  either  side  ,.t  the 
Way.  Only  a  look  of  recognition,  a  low  spoken  word  of  sympa- 
thy, perhaps  a  nervous  shake  of  the  hand,  as  some  loving  heart 


62         '  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 


ejaculates  a  "  God  bless   and  protect  you."    This  is  all  that  is 
permitted. 

As  Charley  was  awaiting  his  turn  to  ascend  the  steps  of  the 
car,  he  heard  his  name  pronounced  in  a  soft,  low  voice.  He 
started  and  looked  round.  There  stood  Lu  and  Mary.  He  sprang 
towards  them.  .  The  guard  seized  and  drew  him  hack  to  his  posi- 
tion, not,  however,  before  he  had  received  the  package  which  his 
sister  held  out  to  him.  A  moment  more,  and  he  was  rudely  thrust 
forward,  and  had  gained  the  car.  Through  the  open  window  he 
gazed  upon  the  seething  mass  before  him.  But.vainly.  Lu  and 
Mary  could  not  be  seen.    They  were  lost  in  the  erowd. 


.CHAPTER  XIII. 


CAMP    CHASE. 


What  a  thrill  of  horrow  seizes  the  soul  as  this  dreadful  name 
meets  fcbe  ear.  Synonym  of  injustice,  cruelty  and  suffering,  how 
black  will  be  the"  calendar  of  crimes,  when  portrayed  by  the  pen 
of  impartial  history  to  the  gaze  of  an  astonished  world!  Thy 
record  has  gone  up  before  the  tribunal  of  eternal,  immutable  jus- 
tice, and  fearful  must  be  the  doom  that  awaits  the  authors  and 
abettors  of  thy  deep,  dark  wrongs. 

The  prisoners  were  marched  immediately  from  Columbus  to 
Camp  Chase,  a  distance  of  six.  miles,  without  a  moment's  pause 
for  rest,  which  they  so  greatly  needed.  Like  herded  swine,  tliey 
were  driven  into  this  filthy  enclosure,  there  to  remain  through 
lung  months  of  dreary  suffering,  deprived  of  every  tiring  like  corn- 
.  fort  or  cleanliness,  subjected  1o  neglect  and  coarse  insult,  and  in 
many  instances  to  violent  death  at  the  hands  of  their  brutal 
guard. 

The  members  of  Gen.  Buckner's  staff,  and  all  the  officers  of 
Col.  Hanson's  regiment,  were  detained  here  until  arrangements 
could  be  completed  to  transfer  them  to  Johnson's  Island,  in  the 
bay  of  Sandusky. 

With  studied  cruelty  the  officers  were  prohibited  from  inter- 
course with  their  men,  lest  their  influence  might  serve  to  cheer 
and  console  them  under  their  horrible  treatment.  It  was  hoped 
that  this  measure  might  serve  to  intimidate  the  private  soldiers, 


OF  MORGAN  AND  IIIS  MEN.  63 

and  finally  force  them  to  take  the  oath.  But  how  mistaken  were 
all  such  calculation*.  The  men  were  actuated  by  the  sanje  high 
and  patriotic  principles  that  tilled  the.  1m  son  a  of  their  leaders,  and 
were  just  as  determined  as  they?  i-a  'Jrave  death  rather  than  sub- 
mit to  disgrace 

It  was  a  loathsome,  disgusting  place,  unfit  for  the  abode  of  the 
most  wretched  criminals.  Filled  with  every  species  of  offensive 
vermin,  the  mud  knee  deep,  in  which  the  men  had  to  stand  like 
beasts  in  the  slab,  with  I'm  room  ftff  exercise  by  day,  and  nothing 
but  the  bare  floor  of  an  open  plank  shanty,  through  which  the 
bleak  winds  and  driving  snowa  had  tree  access,  to  sleep  on  at 
night;  their  disgusting  food  doled  out  to  them  in  SOch  scant  mea- 
sure as  wholly  to  fail  to  meet  the  actual  demands  of  nature:,  with- 
out medicines  or  nuraea/for  the  sick;  could  it  be  expected  thai 
these  wt  ary,  half-clad  men  could  do  otherwise  than  die  by  scores  ? 
And,  indeed,  was  not  death  a  sweet  relief  to  an  honorable  heart 
under  such  sad  trials? 

These  men,  in  solemn  vow,  pledged  themselves  to  stand  by 
their  officers  and  each  other  to  the  last  extremity.  Although  sep- 
arated from  their  officers,  and  all  conversation  with  them  pro- 
hibited, they  swore  to  avenge  with  their  own  blood  any  insult  that 
might  be  offered  to  them;  Men  and  mi  cers  were  alike  treated  as 
if  they  had  been  felons  of  the  lowest  grade,  the  steadiest  watch 
exercised  over  them  by  the  low,  base  minions  of  an  unprincipled 
tyrant;  subject  at  any  moment  to  be  shut  or  bayoneted  by  these 
iniidel  hirelings;  yet  they  never  for  a  moment  lust  the  conscious- 
ness of  their  superiority  and  of  the  righteousness  of  their  cause, 
and  never  would  they  cower  before  insolence OT  insult.  Such  was 
their  noble  bearing,  such  their  dignity,  that  even  the  stolid  hearts 
of  their  guard  were  moved  with  respect  and  admiration. 

R»W  days  passed,  when  suddenly  and  wholly  unexpectedly 
Major  Cassidy  was  taken  sick.  This  officer  of  Gen.  Buckner'a 
staff  was  a  sou  of  one  <'(  the  oldest  and  most  high1  j  table 

citizen    of  Louisville.     His  father,  having  located  in   the   j 
before  it   was  yet  fully  redeemed  from  the  swamps  and  malaria 
which  made  its   first  settlement  so  dangerous  to  life,  had  am; 

a  princely  fortune.  His  sons  had.  from  their  earliest  childhood, 
been  the  recipients  of  all  the  advantages  of  education  and  society 
thai  such  immense  wealth  could  affbfd.  Major  Cassidy  was  a 
husband  and  father,  surrounded  by  all  the  tender  endearments  of 
home.  Bui  when  the  call  came  to  Kentucky's  noble  suns,  to  arm 
themselves  in  defence  of  liberty  and  right,  be  girded  on  his  sword, 
and  bidding  Tarewell  to  loving  wife,  prattling  children,  and  gray- 
haired  sire,  he  nobly  wenl  forth  to  link  himself  with  the  cause  of 
the  South..  He  was  wiib  Gen.  Buckner  while  at  Bowling  Green, 
at  lvussellville,  at  Donelson,  and  in  that  fearful  defeat  decided  to 
remain  beside  him  and  share  with  him  his  captivity,  rather  lhan 
desert  his  General  and  his  friend  in  the  hour  of  overthrow  and 


V 


(.4  EAIDS  AND  ROMANCE     - 

gloom.  And  now  he  was  a  prisoner,  receiving  with  the  others  all 
the  insult  and  trial  that  malice  and  fiendishness  could  heap  upon 
him. 

Rapidly  he  grew  worse.  liIKt  the  earnest  solicitations  of  his 
brother  officers,  a  dispatch  was  sent  to  his  friends  in  Louisville, 
apprising  them  of  his  illness.  But  his  disease  cpuickly  ran  its 
course,  and  before  his  aged  father  and  young  and  loving  wife 
could  reach  him,  he  was  dead. 

This  was  the  first  death  among  the  officers.  Its  suddenness 
and  mysteriousness  gave  rise  to  suspicions  of  foul  play.  It  was 
said  he  had  died  from  congestion,  but  there  lurked  in  many  a  mind 
dark  misgivings  as  to  the  truth  of  the  statement.  The  body  was 
placed  in  a  metallic  case.  Few  of  the  men  were  permitted  to  gaze 
on  the  noble  form  now  still  in  death.  They  could  only  watch  it 
from  afar,  as  it  passed  through  the  outer  gate  on  its  way  to  its  last 
resting  place. 

Each  day  new  accessions  were  made  to  the  already  large  num- 
ber of  prisoners  from  amung  the  citizens  of  Kentucky  who  were 
suspected  of  Southern  sympathies.  No  age  nor  condition  in  life 
was  free  from  the  tyranny  of  arbitrary  arrest.  Old  gray-haired 
men  with  tottering  limbs,  borne  down  with  the  infirmities  of  age, 
without  any  accusation  against  them,  save  the  general  charge  of 
disloyalty,  were  snatched  from  their  homes  and  families  by  a  ruffi- 
anly soldiery,  and  without  a  moment's  preparation — in  many  in- 
stances not  even  permitted  to  bid  farewell  to  their  wives  and  chil- 
dren— were  hurried  off,  frequently  at  the  hour  of  midnight,  trans-* 
ferred  across  the  river  and  incarcerated  in  this  noisome  prison. 
Young  men,  on  whom  depended  the  support  of  their  helpless  fami- 
lies as  they  went  about  their  daily  avocations,  met  the  bayonet 
pointed  to  their  bosoms,  and  found  themselves  prisoners  in  the 
hands  of  the  ignorant  Irish  and  Dutch  Lincolnites,  who  cared  no 
more  about  the  constitution  and  laws,  in  whose  name  and  by  whose 
authority  they  claimed  aright  to  practice  their  outrages,  than  did 
the  perjured  tyrants  at  Washington. 

Mo  class  of  society  was  exempt.'  The  learned  and  unlearned, 
old  and  young,  the  honorable  and  the  obscure — even  ministers  of 
the  gospel — all  alike  were  the  victims  of  relentless  hate  and  cru- 
elty. Will  there  not  be  a  day  of  reckoning  for  all  these  deep,  dark 
wrongs,  and  will  it  not  come  speedily?  Already  the  throne  of 
the  tyrant  begins  to  totter;  already,  too,  his  unprincipled  and  de- 
based tools  begin  to  feel  the  coming  storm  of  wrath  which  most 
surely  will  sweep  them  before  it.  to  ruin— ^fearful  irremediable. 
An  oppressed  and  outraged  people  will  rise  to  avenge  the  high- 
handed abuses  that  have  been  heaped  upon  them  by  a  base  aboli- 
tion usurpation.  And  when  this  hour  come*;,  and  come  it  must, 
for  justice,  though  long  delayed,  will  surely  overtake  the  trans- 
gressor, ah,  will  it  not  be  one  of  fearful  mpment ! 

After  a  few  weeks  more,  in  order  to  effectually  remove  the  in- 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  65 

fluence  of  the  officers  from  their  men,  the  former  were  transferred 
to  Johnson's  Island.  The  men  were  left  in  their  loathsome  con- 
finement. The  daily  round  of  life  was  but  little  varied.  Now  a 
familiar  face  would  he  missed — a  few  days, — and  a  plain  pine 
coffin  bore  the  body  to  the  burial  place.  Then  a  fellow  prisoner, 
for  some  imagined  offence  to  the  guard,  was  shot  down — before 
the  eyes  of  his  friends.  Then  would  the  demon  of  revenge  take 
possession  of  the  men's  hearts,  and  solemn  vows,  to  wipe  out  the 
shameful  crime,  muttered  through  clenched  teeth,  would  go  up 
before  heaven. 

As  the  spring  went  by,  the  character  of  the  prison  ground, 
which  was  a  low,  wet  swamp,  somewhat  improved,  and  the  men, 
to  relieve  the  tediousness  of  the  weary  hours,  would  frequently  in- 
dulge, in  a  game  of  ball,  and  other  such  athletic  exercises  as  their 
limited  space  would  allow. 

For  two  months,  Charley,  with  such  of  his  companions  as  had 
survived  the  hardships  and  deprivations  of  that  horrid  prison,  had 
suffered  on  without  one  ray  of  hope.  They  saw  nothing  before 
them  hut  years-of  close  confinement,  with  all  its  attendants  of  in- 
sult, want  and  ennui.  The  oppressive  tedium  was  sometimes  re- 
lieved by  the  presence  of  a  visitor,  sometimes  by  the  reception  of 
a  letter  from  absent  friends,  at  others,  by  the  arrival  of  a  memento 
of  love  and  affection  in  the  form  of  a  box  of  nice  clothes  and  deli- 
cacies. But,  oh,  it  was  an  irksome  existence  to  men  of  spirit  and 
daring. 

It  was  in  the  middle  of  April.  The  sun  shone  brightly  down 
from  the  clear  blue  heavens,  as  if  in  mockery  of  the  wretched  scene 
beneath.  Charley,  leaning  against  a  tree  that  marked  the  beat 
of  the  guard,  stood  reading  a  letter  from  home.  He  turned  the 
page,  and  there  met  his  eyes  a  pressed  roso-bud,  and  written  in 
his  sister's  own  sweet  hand,  the  words;  "This  is  sent  you  by 
Mary,  Charley." 

Our  young  hero's  face  brightened  into  a  high  flush  as  be  read 
again  and  again  this  charmed  line.  His  heart  quickened  its  beat- 
ings, his  eye  swam  with  tears. 

"  Why,  you  appear  distressed,  Charley,  said  young  E-eed  to 
him,  as  walking  by  he  observed  his  deep  emotion.  "Is  any  thing 
wrong  at  home,  my  boy,  or  are  you  so  glad  to  get  a  letter  that 
you  can't  help  shedding  a  tear  over  it?" 

"  Nothing  serious,  Bob.  It  is  a  letter  from  my  sister  Lu.  I  am 
so  overjoyed  to  hear  from  my  friends,  that  I  could  not  refrain  a 
slight  manifestation  of  weakness.  It  is  the  first  I  have  had  for 
six  weeks.  And  my  sister  writes,  jestingly,  of  course,  that  we 
may  look  for  her  soon  to  make  us  a  visit." 

"  Does  she  mention  my  sister,  Charley,"  said  John,  who  at 
this  moment  joined  the  two.  "  I  do  wish  she  would  come  with 
Miss  Lu." 

Charley  endeavored  to  conceal  his  deep  feelings,  at  the  mention 
5 


68  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

of  Mary's  name.  He  did  not  wish  to  prevaricate,  and  yet  he  felt 
unwilling,  in  the  presence  of  Robert  to  disclose  the  message. 

"Yes,"  he  answered  after  some  hesitation,  which  seemed  to 
arouse  the  young  man's  curiosity.  "  Lu  says,  perhaps  your  sister 
will  accompany  her.  But,  of  coufse,  John,  the  girls  must  be 
quizzing  us.     They  cannot  seriously  contemplate  such  a  thing." 

"  Ob,  if  Mary  has  any  such  an  idea  in  her  head,  she  will  as  cer- 
tainly make  us  a  visit  as  that  I  shall  shoot  that  cursed  Dutchman 
yonder,  if  ever  I  have  a  chance.  And  you  know,  boys,  that  I  have 
sworn  by  the  eternal  heavens  to  do  this.  I  tell  you,  if  my  sister 
has  made  up  her  mind  to  it,  she  will  carry  it  through  at  all  risks. 
I  do  hope  she  has  determined  to  come.  I  would  rather  see  her 
than  any  body  in  the  world.  You  do  not  know  her,  Bob.  I  be- 
lieve she  is  the  sweetest  creature  living.    Ain't  she,  Charley  ?" 

"  Certainly,  John,"  replied  the  young  soldier,  with  quite  a  flip- 
pant manner,  that  he  might  avoid  suspicion.  "  Miss  Mary  is  quite 
a  charming  young  lady." 

"  Three  cheers  for  Kentucky  and  her  lovely  girls,"  and  John 
took  off  his  ragged  beaver  and  tossed  it  high  up  in  the  air. 

"  Three  times  three,"  responded  his  friends. 

"  Come,  Charley,  finish  your  letter,  my  boy,  and  give  us  all  the 
news.  You  are  selfish.  When  I  received  the  letter  from  Mary, 
I  read  it  aloud  to  all  the  Kentucky  boys,  and  they  enjoyed  it  as 
much  as  I  did.  What's  the  matter?  I  do  believe  you  have  got 
some  secret,  you  blush  so.  Well,  Bob,  we'll  give  him  time  to  read 
his  letter,  while  we  walk  round  a  little.'  We  11  be  back  this  way, 
after  a  few  minutes,  to  hear  the  news.  We  mus'nt  be  disappoint- 
ed, you  understand." 

The  two  passed  on,  and  in  a  little  whlie  were  back  again. 

"  What  news,  Charley  ?"  asked  John,  walking  up  and  putting 
his  arm  in  his  friend's  for  a  stroll.     "  All  well,  I  hope." 

"Yes.  The  only  news  item  is  the  proposed  visit  of  our  sisters, 
and  this  is  so  vaguely  expressed,  that  I  am  not  sure  I  have  right- 
ly interpreted  Lu's  ambiguous  language.  So,  we  must  not  too  san- 
guinely  anticipate  the  happiness  of  seeing  them." 

The  three  passed  on.  Charley  was  silent.  They  continued 
walking  for  some  time  to  and  fr6  in  the  space  alloted  for  their  ex- 
ercise. 

"  Why  are  you  so  mum,  Charley,  my  boy,"  said  John,  with- 
drawing his  hand  and  slapping  him  on  the  shoulder.  "  Some- 
thing's wrong  with  you.  You  act  so  mysteriously,  Come,  Bob, 
let  us  besiege  him  until  we  rally  his  spirits." 

"No  need  of  that,  John.  I'll  tell  you  and  Bob  all  about  it,  but 
you  must  guard  my  secret  as  you  would  your  own  life  boys. 
Should  I  be  betrayed,  I  dare  not  think  of  the  result.  We  must 
speak  low,  the  guard  might  overhear  us.  Come  aside  here  by  this 
house.    We  will  be  free  from  notice  there.  " 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  67 

The  three  stepped  aside  and  reached  a  secluded  spot.  Seating 
himself  between  them,  Charley  undertook  to  unfold  his  secret. 

"  I  have  been  thinking  for  several  days  of  propo^lg  to  you  to 
escape.  I  cannot  stand  this  life  much  longer.  I  would  rather  die. 
And  this  letter  from,  home,  together  with  the  shocking  death  of 
that  young  Virginian,  has  determined  me  in  my  purpose.  What 
say  you,  boys,  will  you  risk  it  ?" 

"  Was'nt  that  a  brutal  murder,"  TOterrupted  young  Lawrence, 
"  to  shoot  that  poor  fellow  through  the  heart,  just  because  he  ac- 
cidentally, and  in  play,  crossed  the  beat  ?  And  that  poor  man  who 
was  shot  by  that  Dutch  scoundrel  last  week,  merely  because  he 
carelessly  threw  out  his  arm  in  the  rascal's  way.  Oh,  I  tell  you, 
boys,  I  want  to  kill  every  one  of  them,  from  Abe  Lincoln  down  to 
that  old  fool,  Dick,  that  swaggers  around  here,  with  not  sense 
enough  to  know  how  to  carry  his  gun.  Never  mind  ;  if  I  ever 
get  out  of  this  infernal  place,  I'll  avenge  all  the  murders  that  have 
been  committed  here.  I  here  swear,  boys,  eternal  hate  to  the 
Yankees." 

"Amen,  and  amen,"  responded  his  companions. 

"  But  tell  me,  Charley,"  resumed  bis  friend,  "  have  you  decided 
on  any  plan  ?  Will  you  bribe  the  guard,  or  try  to  get  out 
secretly  ?" 

"  Secretly,  of  course.  I  would  never  trust  those  wretehes  ;  and 
then,  besides,  I  have  no  money.  You  know  they  robbed  me  of  it, 
and  they  have  never  allowed  me  but  two  dollars  at  a  time  since, 
of  all  the  money  father  has  sent  me." 

"  They  are  nothing  but  thieves  and  murderers,  the  best  of  them* 
Charley.  But  never  mind,  the  day  will  soon  come  when  we  we'll 
pay  off  the  reckoning.  I  tell  you,  I'll  never  be  surrendered  again. 
1  do  wish  to  get  out  of  this  infernal  place,  if  it  is  for  nothing  more 
than  to  shoot,  the  Yankees.  However,  boys,  we  settled  this  score 
with  them  at  Donelson.  We  swept  them  down  there  by  hun- 
dreds. But  tell  us,  what  about  getting  out?  Ii,will  share  your 
fate.  If  you  can  go,  so  can  I.  Bob,  what  say  you  ?  Are  you , 
willing  to  risk  the  thing?" 

"  Yes,  John,  if  the  plan  is  at  all  feasible,  I  am  ready  to  under- 
take it  with  you  and  Charley." 

"  I  have  no  settled  plan,  boys.  Several  have  passed  through 
my  mind,  but  there  are  difficulties  in  the  way  of  them  all  which 
I  do  not  know  how  to  overcome.  We  must  not  go  before  our  sis- 
ters come.  But  hush,  boys  ;  see  that  guard  yonder  ?  he's  watch- 
ing us.     We'll  meet  ajjain." 


RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


THE    VISIT    OF   THE    NUNS. 


Busy  were  the  minds  of  the  prisoners  that  night  in  their  endeav- 
ors to  bit  upon  some  practicable  method  of  escape.  Long  after  the 
hour  of  midnight  Charley  was  canvassing  the  subject  with  deep 
and  earnest  thought.  No  scheme  suggested  itself  that  was  not 
attended  with  great  difficulties.  Even  should  they  succeed  in 
clearing  the  prison  walls,  what  would  they  do  in  a  strange  and 
hostile  country,  with  enemies  on  every  side  T  And  should  they  be 
overtaken,  how  greatly  would  their  sufferings  be  increased.  But 
some  risk  must  be  run.  Surely  the  object  to  be  secured  was  worth 
the  hazard  ?  Thus  soliloquized  Charley  to  himself,  as  he  tossed 
on  his  hard  plank  bed.  But  after  hours  of  feverish  thought  he 
could  decide  upon  no  plan  that  appeared  to  him  feasible.  And  he 
fell  into  a  disturbed  sleep,  his  brain  haunted  with  visions  of  at- 
tempted escape,  arrest,  bayonets  and  death. 

No  opportunity  presented  itself  during  the  following  morning 
for  consultation.  The  meeting  must  seem  accidental,  otherwise 
suspicion  would  be  aroused.  The  boys  were  several  times  to- 
gether, but  always  in  the  presence  of  the  guard,  or  their  fellow 
prisoners. 

Charley  and  John  were  busily  engaged  in  tbe  game  of  ball  near 
the  entrance  of  the  enclosure,  when  their  attention  was  suddenly 
arrested  by  the  appearanee  of  two  uuns,  who,  escorted  by  the  cap- 
tain of  the  guard,  stood  near  the  plank  gateway.  Each  nun  bore 
a  basket  on  her  arm,  and  a  small  package  in  her  hand.  The  play- 
ers paused  a  moment  to  observe  them,  but  as  such  visitors  were 
by  no  means  ufi  usual,  they  soon  resumed  again  the  game.  The 
officer  after  having  shown  the  "  Sisters"  in,  left  them  to  pursue 
their  mission  of  charity  unattended. 

These  two  females  were  clad  in  deep  mourning.  Their  closely 
fitting  bonnets  completely  shielded  their  faces.  Timidly  they 
moved  along  towards  the  play-ground.  Bowing  to  the  guard, 
and  handing  him  a  tract,  they  proceeded  hesitatingly  towards  the 
prisoners  in  front  of  them. 

As  they  approached,  the  men  left  off  their  game  to  receive 
them. 

"  Some   more  of  the  sanctimonious  '  Sisters,'  with  their  little 
tracts,"  said  John  to  a  young  Mississippian  by  his  side.     "  They 
are  very  anxious  indeed  about  our  souls,  the  hypocrites.     I  wish 
they  would  manifest  a  more  tender  regard  for  our  bodies.     I  think" 
W£  hive  done  penance  enough  since  we  oame  to  this  place  to  atone 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  69 

for  all  past  sins.  I  don't  see  what  more  the  veriest  saint  among 
them  could  require  at  our  hands.  For  my  part,  I  am  tired 
to  death  of  their  little  books  and  their  holy  advice,  and  I'll  end 
the  matter  forthwith  this  time,  by  distributing  the  tracts  myself. 
See  how  gallantly  I'll  relieve  them  of  their  business,  boys,"  and 
off  the  young  man  hastened  on  his  self-imposed  mission,  to  the 
great  amusement  of  his  comrades,  who  quit  their  play  for  the  mo- 
ment to  note  his  success. 

As  he  neared  where  the  two  females  stood,  he  observed  the  half 
raised  basket  lid  fall  from  the  hand  of  one  of  them,  who  fixed  her 
eyes  intently  upon  him.  He  felt  rather  abashed  to  meet  her  ear- 
nest look,  but  he  had  undertaken  his  work  and  would  not  be 
thwarted.    He  knew  his  companions  were  observing  him. 

"  Good  morning,  ladies,"  he  said,  at  the  same  time  bowing  very 
cavalierly,  and  tipping  his  ragged  beaver.  "Have  you  any  re- 
ligious books  for  us  poor  sinners  this  morning?  We  stand  sadly 
in  need  of  your  tracts,  good  sisters,  and  are  most  happy  to  see 
that  you  take  such  an  interest  in  our  spiritual  welfare.  There  are 
but  few  who  seem  to  care  for  us  poor  rebels.  But  let  me  relieve 
you  of  the  very  unpleasant  task  of  going  round  to  distribute 
your  books  among  all  these  graceless  sinners.  Just  hand  them 
to  me.  I  assure  you  it  will  give  me  the  greatest  happiness  to  aid 
you  in  your  good  work,"  and  he  extended  his  hand  to  receive  the 
packages. 

One  of  the  nuns  grasped  it  nervously.     He  started  back  amazed. 

"John,  don't  you  know  me — Mary,  your  sister?  But  hush! 
for  your  life  don't  betray  us  !  We  have  risked  everything  to  see 
you." 

The  boys,  who  had  been  remarking  his  gallant  air,  at  this  junc- 
ture burst  into  a  merry  laugh.  "  Served  him  right!"  "served 
him  right!"  exclaimed  several  of  them.  "He  should  havejeft 
the  holy  sisters  alone,  to  pursue  their  labor  of  love.  Wasn't  he 
taken  aback?"  and  a  loud  laugh  rang  out  from  the  amused  be- 
holders. 

Our  hero  stood  for  a  few  moments  perfectly  bewildered.  Ho 
could  not  tell  what  to  think  of  this  strange  incident.  Could  it 
really  be  Mary  ?  or  was  some  one  trying  to  deceive  him  ?  The 
young  nun  looked  hastily  around  at  the  guard,  and  seeing, ■ihat  he 
was  intent  on  the  tract  she  had  just  handed  him,  she  stepped  for- 
ward to  the  young  man,  lifted  her  bonnet,  and  threw  back  the 
snowy  frill  of  her  muslin  cap.  The  dark,  auburn  ringlets  escaped 
from  their  hiding,  and  fell  over  the  beautiful  brow. 

John  was  convinced — petrified.  He  could  scarcely  credit  his 
senses. 

"  Mary !  Mary  !"  he  exclaimed,  "  How  on  earth  came  you 
here?" 

"  Hush,  John,  hush,  I  tell  you  !  We'll  be  arrested  and  sent 
away  to  a  dungeon.  Can't  you  take  us  to  some  spot  where  we 
won't  be  observed  ?"  ^ 

I 


70  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

"  Any  where,  so  that  we'll  be  removed  from  the  eye  of  the  guard. 
Where  is  Charley?     He  must  come  with  you." 

"  Where  is  he — my  brother  V  asked  the  sister  nervously,  turn- 
ing from  the  gateway. 

Quick  as  thought  the  prisoner  comprehended  the  whole  position. 
He  must  be  calm,  or  everything  would  be  lost.  The  game  must 
be  played,  and  played  successfully.  Commanding  himself,  he  took 
a  tract  from  his  sister  Mary's  basket,  and  slowly  turned  the  leaves, 
as  if  closely  examining  the  little  work. 

"  Your  brother  is  with  that  group  to  our  right,  Miss  Lu,  but  you 
cannot  speak  to  him  now.  The  prisoners  must,  not  know  who  you 
are.    It  might  lead  to  trouble." 

"  But  I  can  see  him  can't  I V  asked  the  young  girl,  eagerly. — 
"  I  cannot  leave  this  place  until  I  do." 

"  You  shall  see  him,  if  possible.  But  we  shall  have  to  be  very 
careful.  If  you  and  Mary  are  discovered,  you  will  certainly  be 
arrested,  and,  perhaps,  imprisoned." 

He  mused  for  a  moment,  in  deep  thought,  then  looking  up,  he 
said: 

"  Do  you  see  that  house  to  the  left  ?  You  two  pass  on  toward 
that,  give  pamphlets  to  the  prisoners  as  you  go,  and  I  will  get 
Charley  and  join  you  directly.  There  we  will  be  safe  to  say  what 
we  please.  But  give  me  some  tracts  to  hand  to  the  boys  here — 
this  will  divert  their  attention  from  us." 

The  two  nuns  passed  on  as  directed.  John  took  his  tracts  and 
returned  to  the  group. 

"  Why  didn't  you  relieve  the  sisters  of  their  mission,  John  V 
the  boys  asked,  laughing,  and  taunting  him  with  hia^plure.  "Your 
gallantry  died  out  in  their  presence." 

"  Oh,  they  are  righteous  overmuch,  boys — hope  to  get  to  heaven 
on  their  good  deeds— ^nd  attach  great  virtue  to  distributing  their 
own  pamphlets.  I  soon  saw  they  were  bent  on  their  own  purpose, 
and  it  was  no  use  for  me  to  offer  my  aid.  But  I  succeeded  in  get- 
ting these.  Come,  poor  rebels,  learn  to  do  right  from  these  holy 
books,"  and  saying  this,  he  took  the  wrapper  off  and  handed  them 
round.  • 

'»Here,  Charley,  my  boy,  here  is  one  that  just  suits  our  case.—: 
Throw'down  your  bandy,  and  let's  read  it.  I  don't  believe  you 
want  to  learn  your  duty.  Oh,  what  a  wretched  sinner  you  are." 
"I'm  tired  to  death,  John,  of  these  Catholic  books.  I'm  a  Prot- 
estant, and  don't  believe  one  word  of  their  holy  water,  and  pen- 
ance, and  purgatory,  and  saints.  I  am  just  as  good  as  any  of 
them,  and  I  don't  intend  to  bother  my  head  with  them  any 
longer." 

"  But  this  doesn't  say  a  word  about  saints  and  crucifixes.  It  is 
an  appeal  to  sinners,  and  you  know  you  are  one.  Here  look  at  this 
first  page  ;"  and  John  whispered  a  word  into  his  ear  as  he  stood 
beside  him.  "  Are  you  not  convinced  1  Come,  let's  go  and 
read  it."  • 

\ 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  71 

The  two  set  out  towards  the  low,  wooden  house. 

"  Hold  there,  boys,"  called  out  Bob,  who  supposed  they  were 
going-  apart  for  consultation  about  the  proposed  escape  ;  "  wait, 
and  I'll  go  with  you.  I'm  a  sinner,  too,  and  may  be  your  boek 
will  do  me  good." 

Joining  his  friends,  he  proceeded  with  them  towards  the  house. 
As  they  passed  along  he  was  hurriedly  initiated  into  the  secret. 
The  two  nuns  were  overtaken  just  as  they  reached  the  door  of  the 
building. 

"  Here,  this  door,  Mary  ;"  and  the  two  brothers  entered  quickly, 
followed  by  the  sisters,  while  Bob  lingered  outside  to  look  out  for 
danger. 

With  difficulty  Charley  mastered  his  emotion  as  he  beheld  the 
face  of  his  sister  and  that  of  Mary.  He  scarcely  knew  how  to 
conduct  himself,  his  surprise  and  joy  were  so  great.  But  he  must 
not  yield  to  his  emotions — the  time  was  short,  and  he  had  much 
to  say. 

Mutual  surprise  and  embarrassment  were  soon  succeeded  by 
pleasant  and  joyous  conversation.  Kind  inquiries  were  made  for 
friends  and  acquaintances,  and  many  questions  asked  about  the 
changes  that  had  taken  place  in  the  city  since  the  young  men  left 
it. 

The  fight  at  Donelson  was  graphically  described  to  the  young 
ladies,  and  some  of  the  horrors  of  their  two  months'  imprisonment 
portrayed  to  their  shuddering  hearts." 

"  But,  Charley,  why  don't  you  get  out  of  this  wretched  place?'' 
asked  his  sister  Lu,  with  tears  streaming  down  her  face.  "  I 
would  rather  die  in  the  attempt  to  escape  than  remain  longer  here. 
I  have  heard  of  several  prisoners  who  have  succeeded.  Can't 
you  do  so  too?" 

"  "We  have  that  very  thing  under  consideration  now,  Lu — John, 
Bob  and  I ;  but  we  don't  see  how  it  is  to  be  done.  I  was  trying 
all  last  night  to  decide  upon  some  plan  ;  but  there  are  so  many 
difficulties  in  the  way,  it  seems  almost  hopeless  to  make  any  at- 
tempt.   John,  did  you  come  to  any  conclusion,  or  you,  Bob  ?" 

"None  as  to  the  way.  But  I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  go  out. 
As  Miss  Lu  says,  better  die  trying  than  live  here." 

"  Can't  you  bribe  the  guards  ?"  said  Mary,  as  she  opened  her 
basket,  and  turning  up  the  tracts,  drew  forth  a  well-filled  portmoney. 
"  Here  is  enough  for  three,  \  should  think." 

"  Hazardous  experiment,  Miss  Mary.  These  creatures  are  so 
treacherous.  One  of  the  prisoners  gave  a  sentinel  a  twenty  dollar 
gold  piece  to  let  him  pass;  the  man,  after  agreeing  to  do  it,  fired 
his  gun,  and  the  poor  fellow  was  taken,  placed  in  chains,  and  fed 
on  bread  and  water  for  days." 

"  Well,  can't  you  climb  over  the  wall,  or  dig  out  ?"  she  asked 
laughing. 

"  The  latter  is  the  only  method  that  seems  to  me  at  all  practi- 


72  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

cable,  and  I  have  decided  to  try  it.  The  only  obstacle  is  the  dirt. 
I  can't  see  what  we  will  do  with  it.  If  left  where  it" can  be  seen, 
it  will  create  suspicion,  and  every  inch  around  the  inclosure  would 
be  thoroughly  examined." 

"  Why,  the  dirt — that's  but  a  small  matter,  Charley.  Put  it 
in  your  hats  and  pockets  until  you  get  out,"  suggested  Mary, 
laughingly. 

"  Capital  idea,  Mary,"  exclaimed  her  brother,  springing  to  his 
feet.  "  That's  just  the  thing.  The  way  is  open  before  us.  We'll 
be  free,  Charley,  won't  we  ?*' 

"  But  once  out,  John,  how  are  we  to  get  through  to  Kentucky  ? 
Once  there  we  could  be  safe.  But  how  are  we  to  pass  through  this 
Abolition  State  without  detection  1" 

"  That  is  a  question,  Charley,  that  must  be  met  before  we  set 
out.  Mary,  can  you  and  Miss  Lu  solve  this  difficulty  for  us  1 
Woman's  wit  is  always  ready  for  any  emergency." 

*'.  Charley,  we  have  a  relation,  cousin  Sam  Lightfoot, -living  near 
the  railroad,  about  fifteen  miles  from  Columbus.  He  is  as  good  a 
Southern  man  as  you  are,  and  I  know  he  will  we  glad  to  assist 
you.    You  can  go  there,  and  he  will  direct  yVru  how  to  get  through." 

"  Ah,  Miss  Lu,  I  felt  sure  you  could  devise  some  plan  for  us. — 
If  we  can  get  that  far  out  safely,  we'll  certainly  make  good  our 
escape." 

As  the  quartette  were  thus  busily  engaged  in  completing  these 
arrangements,  Bob  suddenly  thrust  his  head  in  at  the  door  and 
called  out,  "  Guard." 

In  a  moment  the  two  gay  girls  subsided  into  meek  and  quiet 
nuns,  and  with  their  books  presented,  were  most  earnestly  urging 
on  their  silent  listeners  the  necessity  of  giving  heed  to  the  things 
pertaining  to  the  world  to  come. 

"  I  think  those  two  young  fellows  are  in  a  fair  way  tto  become 
religious,"  said  Bob  to  the  guard,  who  was  an  Irishman  and  a 
Catholic.  "See  how  penitent  they  look,  while  those  two  good 
sisters  are  telling  them  their  duty.  I  have  been  reading  one  of 
their  good  little  books  myself,"  and  he  displayed  the  one  Johniad 
left  with  him,  "  and  I  do  believe  the  Catholic  church  is  the  only 
true  church,  after  all." 

"  To  be  shure  it  is,  sir.  It  is,  indade,  the  only  thrue  church,  an' 
there  ain't  none  beside  it,  at  all,  at  all." 

The  bait  had  taken.  The  man's  *face  lighted  into  a  regular 
Irish  smile.  He  looked  pleasantly  into  the  door,  and  without  com- 
ment, passed  on. 

"  Here,  my  friend,  you  must  read  this  most  excellent  work,"  said 
Bob,  calling  out  to  him  as  he  walked  off.  "I  know  you'll  be  de- 
lighted with  it." 

"  No,  no,  thank  ye,  sir.    Kape  it  yourself.     I  cannot  rade." 
.   "  And  yet  you  are  called  loyal,  you  old  fool,  you,  and  are  placed 
here  to  guard  me,  when/  vn  know  no  more  about  constitution  and 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  73 

law  than  the  vile  numbskulls  that  put  you  here,"  muttered  Bob, 
between  his  teeth,  as  he  looked  after  the  ignorant  old  man,  who, 
"  clothed  in  a  little  brief  authority,"  strutted  on  as  a  la  soldier  as 
it  was  possible  for  one  of  his  calibre  to  do. 

The  mementos  of  love,  provided  by  the  hand  of  affection  at 
home,  were  given  to  the  young  men.  Full  arrangements  for  es- 
cape were  made,  hasty  adieus  given,  and  the  two  young  girls,  with 
bonnets  drawn  closely  over  their  faces,  sought  the  door." 

"  We  shall  expect  you  at  the  appointed  time.  Success  to  your 
undertaking,"  and  with  meek,  bowed  mien  the  two  nuns  passed 
out,  distributing  their  tracts  as  they  went. 

Their  ruse  had  succeeded  fully.  Not  a  suspicion  had  been 
aroused,  and  the  two  girls  returned  safely  to  Columbus. 


CHAP^R   XV. 

HOW   THE    PLAN    OF    ESCAPE    SltCEEDED. 

"We  must  begin  our  work  to-night,  Charley.  By  Saturday 
morning  we  are  to  be  at  your  cousin's.  This  is  Thursday,  and  if 
we  are  entirely  successful,  we  cannot  more  than  accomplish  our 
purpose.  But  we  must  tell  Bob  about  it,  and  see  if  he  approves 
our  proposition." 

The  young  friend  was  called  in  and  the  matter  laid  before  him. 
He  endorsed  it  fully,  and  coincided  in  the  view  of  promptly  begin- 
ning the  work. 

"  But,  boys,  we  cannot  dig  out  to-night,  and  what  are  we  do 
with  the  hole  to-morrow.  We  can  carry  the  dirt  in  our  pockets,  as 
Mary  suggested  ;  but  who  will  take  care  of  the  opening?" 

"  We  can  put  our  dirty  clothes  over  it,  John.  You  know  it  is 
our  custom  to  throw  them  beside  the  fence  to  be  washed.  This, 
as  it  is  usual,  will  create  no  suspicion." 

"  Yes,  I  must  have  a  pair  of  new  pants  and  shoes,  and  so  must 
you,  Charley.  How  would  we  look,  my  boy,  in  your  cousin's  par- 
lor with  this  garb  on  1  And,  moreover,  this  will  be  a  good  way  to 
save  our  money.  Bob,  there,  appears  quite  like  a  gentleman,  with 
his  new  suit  from  top  to  toe." 

"  I  was  fortunate,  you  see,  boys,  in  getting  mine  when  I  did. — 
They  still  have  twenty  dollars  of  my  money  ;  but  that's  a  small 


74  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

matter.    The  rascals  are  welcome  to  it,  if  I  can  only  be  allowed 
to  bid  them  an  eternal  farewell." 

The  three  young  men  separated — Charley  and  Bob  returned  to 
the  play-ground,  while  John  went  to  make  application  for  the 
pants  and  shoes. 

Night  came.  Under  cover  of  its  thick  darkness  the  three  pris- 
oners entered  upon  their  hazardous  undertaking.  In  breathless 
silence  they  pursued  their  work,  using  only  their  pen  knives  and 
three  sharp  sticks  which  they  had  fashioned  for  the  purpose. — 
Not  a  word  was  spoken,  as  assiduously  they  labored  on.  The 
earth,  as  fast  as  removed,  was  carefully  piled  together,  to  be  placed 
in  their  hats  and  pockets  when  the  night's  work  was  over.  It  was 
a  tedious  process,  but  the  three  prisoners  applied  themselves  like 
men  determined  to  conquer. 

The  enclosure,  embracing  several  acres  of  ground,  was  sur- 
rounded by  a  high,  wooden  fence,  on  top  of  which  were  placed 
planks,  at  regular  intervals,  where  the  guard  kept  watch,  so  as  to 
have  a  view  without,  as  well  as  within.  As  with  bated  breath  the 
three  young  men  worked  on,  the  heavy  tramp  of  the  sentinel  over- 
head, keeping  his  lonely  watch  was  distinctly  heard.  At  first  his 
marked  footsteps  struck  terror  to  the  hearts  of  the  midnight  work- 
men ;  but,  as  hour  after  hour,  they  toiled  on,  it  became  familiar 
music,  and  it  was  only  its  cessation  that  awoke  forebodings. 

The  night  was  starless,  which  greatly  favored  their  purpose,  as 
it  shielded  them  from  discovery  on  every  hand. 

Hour  after  hour  they  toiled  on,  never  for  a  moment  pausing  in 
their  undertaking.  At  3  o'clock  in  the  morning,  as  the  first  faint 
beams  of  the  rising  morn,  struggling  through  the  rifted  clouds,  be- 
gan to  light  up  the  dark  landscape,  they  carefully  gathered  up  the 
"new  earth,  filled  their  hats,  pockets,  shoes,  socks,  etc.,  threw  the 
heap  of  soiled  clothing  over  the  opening,  and  stealthily  crept  away 
and  secreted  themselves  until  breakfast. 

Finding  their  weight  of  dirt  burdensome,  they  deposited  it  under 
some  loose  planks  in  their  sleeping  room. 

Early  application  was  made  for  the  new  outfits  that  had  been  se- 
lected the  previous  evening.  They  were  furnished  during  the  after- 
noon. Immediately  the  old  garments  were  doffed  in  favor  of  their 
successful  rivals.  The  remaining  hours  of  the  day  were  spent  in 
sleep. 

It  is  ten  o'clock  at  night.  Most  of  the  prisoners  have  retired  to 
rest — some  on  the  floor  of  their  rude  plank  house  ;  others,  preferring 
the  open  air  to  the  noisome  rooms,  have  thrown  themselves  on  t,he 
ground,  with  no  covering  save  a  blanket.  The  sentries  are  on  duty. 
No  sound  is. heard  but  the  dead  monotone  of  their  heavy  tramp. 
The  stars  are  out  to-night,  but  their  radianqe,  soft  and  mild,  throws 
but  a  dreamy  light  over  the  scene. 

Noiselessly,  the  prisoners  arise  from  their  palates.  Not  a  word 
is  spoken  as  they  pass  on  among  their  sleepy  companions.     They 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  75 

gain  the  open  air,  and  pause  to  look  about  them  that  they  may  be 
assured  of  their  safety.  Charley  ventures  first,  the  two  follow, 
each  several  paces  behind  the  other,  so  that  if  one  shall  be  dis- 
covered, it  may  not  involve  his  companions.  Breathlessly  they 
steal  along  like  shadows,  in  the  faint  starlight.  Charley  is  within 
a  few  paces  of  the  outlet.  The  sentinel  halts  in  his  round  and 
pauses  to  listen.  The  prisoner  crouches  to  the  ground ;  and 
screens  himself  in  th  •■  dark  shadow  of  a  house.  His  comrades 
mark  his  movement  and  follow  his  example. 

A  moment  more,  the  sentry,  reassured,  resumes  his  round. — 
Charley  glides  back  to  where  his  friends  are  in  their  hiding  places, 
whispers  to  them  the  incident  and  his  fears.  The  three  crouch 
together  near  the  house  and  in  low  tones  canvass  the  prospect 
before  them.  It  is  at  length  decided  to  remain  in  their  present 
position  until  the  guard,  weary  with  watching,  shall  slumber  at 
his  post. 

Eleven  o'clock.  They  rise  and  stealthily  approach  the  scene 
of  their  last  night's  labors.  The  sentinel  no  longer  treads  his 
weary  beat;  his  eyes  have  become  heavy  with  his  night-watching, 
and  he  leans  upon  his  gun.  Now  is  their  time  for  action.  In  one 
hour  and  the  guard  will  be  relieved.  Before  that  time  their  worn 
must  be  accomplished,  if  at  all. 

The  prisoners  gain  the  spot,  throw  aside  the  heap  of  clothing, 
and  apply  themselves  to  the  removal  of  the  earth  that  intervenes 
between  them  and  the  world  without.  They  work  with  silent 
desperation.  A  half  hour  more  and  the  task  is  accomplished. 
Who  shall  venture  first?  The  moments  flee — there  is  no  time 
for  parley. 

John  shall  lead,  as  he  is  the  smallest.  With  difficulty  he  makp> 
his  way  through.  But  he  is  at  last  successful,  and  stands  outside 
the  prison  walls.  The  two  within  enlarge  the  opening  with  their 
sharp  sticks.  A  few  moments  more,  and  they  are  beside  their 
comrade.  Novel  position — they  can  scarcely  realize  it.  Once 
more  at  liberty,  beyond  the  pale  of  that  high  frowning  wall,  which 
for  two  long  weary  months  has  shut  them  in  from  freedom. 

They  pause  a  moment  to  assure  themselves  that  they  are  not 
discovered.  AH  is  unbroken  stillness.  The  sentinul  sleeps  on. 
Thank  God,  they  are  free ! 

"  Come,  boys,  profound  silence,  as  you  value  your  lives.  Fol- 
low me,"  and  Charley  leads  the  way  through  the  buildings  with- 
out. They  gain  the  open  ground,  and  set  out  in  the  direction  of 
the  railroad. 


76  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


THE    MEETING — HOME   VISIT. 


Rapidly  as  they  could,  avoiding  the  city,  the  three  soldiers 
made  their  onward  way.  A  few  miles  passed  and  they  had  reached 
the  road.  Following  its  track,  they  proceeded  several  miles  at  a 
quick  pace,  when  feeling  that  they  were  fully  beyond  the  reach  of 
danger,  as  their  escape  could  not  be  discovered  before  the  morning, 
they  halted  to  rest.  Hungry  and  weary  were  they,  but  they  had 
nothing  to  eat,  nor  could  they  spare  time  to  sleep. 

"  We  must  reach  our  destination  before  morning,  boys.  There 
may  be  Abolition  enemies  in  the  neighborhood,  who  would  cer- 
tainly inform  against  us,  if  they  knew  we  were  there,  and  cause 
our  arrest." 

"  And  then  the  girls  are  anxiously  looking  for  us  now,  Charley," 
added  John.  "  And  I  fancy  we  shall  not  be  averse  to  meeting 
them.  We  promised  them,  if  we  could  get  out,  we  would  reach 
your  cousin's  before  morning.  How  happy  they  will  be  when 
they  see  we  are  safe. 

After  resting  themselves  awhile  they  resumed  their  journey, 
beguiling  the  long  dark  night  hours  with  bright  plans  for  the 
future. 

"  We  talk,  boys,  as  if  we  were  surely  out  of  reach  of  the  lion's 
paw.  For  my  part,  I  cannot  see  how  we  are  to  get  from  here  to 
Louisville,  and  from  there  to  our  army,"  said  Bob,  whose  usually 
hopeful  nature  seemed  to  have  yielded  to  a  certain  degree  of 
timidity,  which  prevented  him  from  indulging  in  any  joyous  anti- 
cipations. 

"  Oh,  if  we  can  but  reach  the  city,  Bob,  I  do  not  fear  beyond 
that.  All  southern  Kentucky  is  right,  and  every, man  we  meet 
will  befriend  us.  We  will  have  to  trust  ourselves  to  the  ingenuity 
of  the  girls  to  provide  for  our  safety  to  Louisville.  I  am  sure 
they  can  manage  the  case  for  us.     Don't  you  think  so,  Charley  1 " 

"  I  am  confident  of  it,  John.  I  would  not  hesitate  for  a  mo- 
ment trust  them  for  a  release  from  Fort  Lafayette  itself.  Their 
visit  to  us  proves  them  equal  to  any  emergency.  It  was  a  novel 
affair,  really.  Who  would  have  thought  that  those  two  demure 
looking  nuns,- with  their  baskets  of  tracts,  were  our  merry,  timid 
sisters,  come  to  plan  our  escape  from  prison  ?  If  I  were  a  writer 
I'd  immortalize  these  heroines." 

"  Your  sisters  deserve  immortality  and  fame,  boys.    I  do  be- 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  77 

lieve  we  should  now  and  forever  have  been  in  that  miserable  place 
if  they  had  not  encouraged  us  in  our  undertaking." 

"  You  are  right,  Bob.  And  yet  what  an  easy  matter  it  was 
after  all." 

"  And  how  sad  a  matter  it  would  have  been,  Charley,  if  we  had 
been  discovered.  The  fates  were  propitious  and  the  Dutchman 
was  sleepy,  so  we  made  our  way  out ;  and  now  we  shall  be  bre- 
veted among  our  friends  for  gallant  conduct  and  heroic  daring, 
when  really  I  do  not  believe  our  emotions  ever  rose  a  whit  above 
selfishness." 

The  three  indulged  in  a  hearty  laugh  over  their  success,  and 
humming  a  verse  or  two  of  "Dixie,"  they  pursued  their  way 
cheerily  on. 

"I  have  been  thinking,  boys,"  said  John,  breaking  the  silence, 
"  that  if  we  could  procure  a  genteel  coat  and  bat  each,  we  might 
take  the  cars  to-morrow  for  Cincinnati,  and  go  from  there  to  Lou- 
isville by  boat.  Wouldn't  it  be  pleasant  once  more  to  act  the  gen- 
tleman and  be  in  society  ?  " 

"  You  are  right,  John.  It  would  be  delightful,  indeed,  to  see 
ourselves  acknowledged  gentlemen,  we  have  so  long  been  treated 
as  brutes.  But  getting  the  clothes  is' the  rub.  We  are  gentle- 
men now,  forsooth,  but  unfortunately  minus  the  cash,  and  how  to 
supply  this  very  sad  need,  I  must  acknowledge  myself  wholly 
inadequate  to  suggest.     Can  you  give  me  any  light,  boys  1  " 

"  Oh,  leave  that  to  (he  girls,  Bob;  they  will  provide  for  that. 
I  am  sure  they  have  discussed  every  possible  plan,  and  I'll  ven- 
ture they  have  already  selected  the  one  most  likely  to  succeed." 

The  faint  gleams  of  morning  were  just  beginning  to  tinge  the 
eastern  sky.  The  pedestrians,  weary  and  worn,  were  looking  out 
with  longing  hearts  for  their  destination. 

"  That  must  be  the  house,  boys,  there  to  the  left.  Look,  don't 
you  see  the  light  in  the  front  windows.  That  was  the  signal  the 
girls  agreed  upon,  and  surely  we  have  come  fifteen  miles  since  we 
struck  the  railroad." 

Charley  was  right.  That  was  the  house,  and  the  two  sisters, 
with  cousin  Sam  and  his  wife,  Were  in  the  parlor  awaiting  them. 

Joyous  was  the  meeting  between  the  young  girls  and  the 
escaped  prisoners.  Very  little  like  nuns  did  the  two  glad  young 
creatures  look  as  they  welcomed  their  brothers  and  their  friend  to 
liberty.  A  lunch  had  been  prepared  by  the  kind  hostess,  and 
never  was  food  more  enjoyed  than  by  these  three  half-starved  men. 
It  had  been  many  a  month  since  they  had  partaken  of  the  luxury 
of  a  private  table.. and  they  declared  that,  in  honor  of  their  hos- 
tess and  their  own  appetites,  they  must  make  amends  for  past 
neglect. 

It  was  very  soon  determined — for  no  time  could  be  lost — that 
Charley,  with  the  addition  of  a  coat  and  hat  to  his  toilet,  should 
accompany  the  young  ladies  to  Louisville,  while  his  companions, 


78  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

under  such  directions  as  Mr.  Ligbtfoot  could  give  them,  should 
make  their  way  on  foot  to  Cincinnati ;  there  cross  the  Ohio  river 
into  Boone  county,  where  Bob  bad  friends,  who  would  provide 
them  safe  conduct  to  the  city.  Accordingly,  the  morning  found 
the  two  young  ladies,  with  their  escort,  looking  quite  a  la  mode, 
seated  in  the  cars,  bound  for  Cincinnati.  The  following  night 
thev  were  safely  landed  at  Louisville.  Here,  to  avoid  any  pro- 
bability of  exposure,  a  hack  was  taken,  and  at  that  late  hour  the 
party  drove  out  to  Mr.  R's. 

Words  are  powerless  to  express  the  joy  in  the  homestead  when 
Charley  was  welcomed  back  to  its  affections  and  comforts.  The 
mother's  heart  overflowed  with  tenderness  as  she  pressed  him  to 
her  bosom,  while  great  tears  of  joy  streamed  down  her  face ;  and 
the  father's  soul  swelled  high  with  grateful  pride  as  he  clasped  his 
noble  boy  in  his  arms,  while  the  sisters  and  brothers  heaped  upon 
him  affectionate  caresses,  and  were  never  weary  of  lingering  near 
him  to  listen  to  the  recital  of  his  varied  adventures.  And  our 
young  hero,  amid  the  happiness  which  surrounded  him,  foigot  for 
the  time  the  trials  and  sufferings  of  the  past  two  months.  Mary 
remained  with  the  family  to  await  the  arrival  of  her  brother,  and 
her  presence  was  to  Charley  as  that  of  an  angel  visitant.  Vows 
of  love,  long  ago  given,  were  renewed  to  be  consummated  when 
independence  and  peace  shouldobless  the  Southern  Confederacy. 
There  was  but  one  shadow  resting  over  the  sunny  scene.  It  was 
the  sad  thought  that  hid  itself  away  in  the  bosom  of  each,  that 
soon — ah  !  too  soon — must  come  the  bitter  parting. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 


THE       PEDESTRIANS 


Beneath  the  old  oak  tree  whose  bursting  buds  were  unfolding 
tender  leaves  of  green,  sat  Mary  and  Charley.  It  was  the  last 
evening  of  his  stay  at  home.  To-morrow,  ere  the  sun  should 
begin  its  daily  circuit,  he  must  bid  farewell  to  loved  ones,  and  go 
to  seek  a  life  of  exile   and  danger. 

The  evening  sun  declining  low  in  the  west  threw  its  golden 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  79 

glory  in  long  lines  of  living  light  back  upon  the  earth,  now  spring- 
ing into  life  and  beauty,  Tleecy  clouds  of  white  floated  lazily 
through  the  azure  heavens,  catching  upon  their  western  margins 
the  radiant  hues  of  the  departing  sun  ;  and  as  the  eye  looked  up 
into  the  vault  above,  the  soul  could  fancy  itself  gazing  up — up — 
through  the  blue  empyrean — beyond  sun  and  moon  and  remotest 
siar — into  the  glorious  splendor  of  the  New  Jerusalem,  whose 
sapphirine  beauties  beamed  from  out  their  far-off  heavenly  home 
down  upon  the  emerald  earth.  The  evening  wind  swept  gently 
by,  kissing  the  grass  blades  and  the  tender  leaflets,  and  bearing 
the  sweet,  breath  of  the  lovely  violet  that  nestled  in  its  modest 
loneliness  beside  the  field  fence  row  and  at  the  foot  of  the  giant 
forest  tree. 

Before  them  lay  the  city,  its  distant  spires  gleaming  in  the  gor- 
geous rays  of  the  setting  sun,  its  busy  hum  falling  on  the  listening 
ear  like  the  dull  monuione  of  a  mournful  dirge.  Beyond  it  rose 
the  dark  blue  outline  of  the  hills  which  skirt  the  northern  bank  of 
the  beautiful  Ohio.  It  was  a  charming  scene.  One  that  might 
invite  the  pencil  of  Claude  Lorraine.  The  lovers  had  long  been 
seated  at  the  foot  of  the  old  familiar  tree  talking  over  their  pres- 
ent, past  and  future,  and  sealing  in  words  of  love's  own  eloquent 
truth  the  vows  long  ago  pledged.  To  their  young'  and  bursting 
hearts  the  coming  years  gave  promise  of  joy  and  gladness.  Yet 
over  that  radiant  pathway  there  could  be  discovered,  even  by  their 
inexperienced  vision,  the  shadow — aye,  the  gloom. 

Why  was  it  thus,  thai  even  in  our  most  joyous  moments  the 
heart  is  ever  aware  of  these  gathering  clouds,  which,  though  all 
unseen,  throw  their  darkling  shade  over  our  life-path  ?  Is  it  that 
the  malediction  pronounced  upon  our  first  parents,  as  they  turned 
their  weeping  eyes  for  the  last  time  upon  their  lost  Eden,  and  bent 
their  burdened  step  out  into  the  unknown  waste  before  them,  has 
found  lodgement  in  our  fallen  nature — is  so  burnt  in  upon  the 
struggling  soul  of  man  that  he  needs  not  bitter  experience  to  teach 
him  that  the  evil  ever  accompanies  the  good  1 

As  the  dancing  wind  lifted  the  dark  auburn  ringlets  from  the 
passive  brow  of  Mary/and  kissed  with  its  cooling  breath  her  cheek, 
flushing  with  love's  own  holy  kindlings,  Charley  gazed  upon  her 
with  silent  admiration.  Tears  started  to  his  eyes,  and  his  op- 
pressed heart  sighed  heavily. 
•  Mary  turned  her  eyes  with  a  look  of  sorrow  upward  to  his. 

"  Why,  do  you  sigh,  Charley  V  she  asked  in  tones  of  tender- 
ness. "  It  is  sad  to  part,  but  you  know  there  is  no  safety  here  for 
you.  They  would  take  you  from  us  and  put  you  in  prison.  We 
must  bear  this  trial  as"  heroically  as  we  can.  It  is  a  deep,  deep 
one,  but  there  is  no  other  hope." 

"I  feel  reproved,  Mary,  he  replied,  "  by  your  words  of  truth  and 
courage.  It  is  not  the  parting — and  God  knows  this  is  bitter 
enough,  neither  is  it  dread  of  the  battle-field  that  thus  oppresses  me, 


80  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

but — "  and  he  paused  as  if  unwilling  to  proceed^"  but,  Mary, 
pardon  me,  I  would  not  do  you  injustice — you  are  young — you 
will  be  caurted,  flattered,  tempted.  I  do  not  doubt  your  truth, 
heavens  knows  I  do  not — and  yet,  -I  cannot  tell  why,  when  I 
think  on  this,  my  brain  burns,  my  heart  throbs  with  the  wildest 
torment.  Young  Morton,  Mary,  do  not,  I  beseech  you,  trust  him. 
He  is  made  to  win — and  to  deceive." 

"  Oh,  Charley,  Charley  ?  how  can  you  do  me  this  great  wrong  ? 
Why  do  you  doubt  me  ?  Have  you  not  proved  my  love,  and  found 
it  constant,  undying?  Am  I  younger  now  than  when  we  last 
parted?  Did  I  prove  faithless — why  should  I  now?"  and  the 
young  girl  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears. 

"  Oh,  forgive  me,  Mary,"  said  Charley,  tenderly,  gently  drawing 
her  towards  him,  and  kissing  her  burning  cheek.  "  I  do  not  doubt 
you,  and  yet — and  yet  my  heart  thrills  with  a  strange  emotion, 
when  I  think  of  the  future.     The  form  of  Morton  haunts  me." 

"You  need  not  torture  yourself  with  apprehensions  of  him," 
said  Mary,  looking  confidingly  np  into  her  lover's  face. 

"  Our  love  was  merely. the  fancy  of  our  childish  hearts — a  wild, 
foolish    admiration  for  each  other — because  we  called  each  other 
sweethearts.     I  may  never  see  him  again.    You  know  he  is  speak- 
ing of  joining  the  Federal  army." 

"  God  grant  he  may,"  was  Charley's  earnest  response. 

The  two  arose  and  walked  toward  the  house.  In  the  front  yard 
they  were  met  by  Lu,  whose  saddened  face  told  of  the  sorrow  of 
her  loving  heart. 

"  Mother  has  sent  me  to  seek  you  two.  She  wishes  Charley  to 
supervise  some  little  preparation  she  is  making  for  him." 

Charley,  resigning  Mary  to  his  sister,  who  conducted  her  to  the 
parlor,  passed  to  his  mother's  room  to  furnish  any  necessary  sug- 
gestions. 

An  hour  later,  and  the  family  grouped  in  the  parlor  were  dis- 
cussing the  probability  of  the  recapture  of  the  two  young  soldiers, 
when  a  loud  and  hasty  knock  at  the  door  interrupted  the  conver- 
sation for  a  moment.  The  servant  announced  two  gentlemen. 
They  were  shown  into  the  parlor.  Mr.  R.  rose,  bowed  politely, 
and  asked  them  forward  to  the  fire.  The  visitors  returned  the 
salutation,  without  speaking,  and  advanced. 

"  It  is  brother  !"  exclaimed  Mary,  springing  from  her  seat  on  the 
sofa,  and  throwing  her  arms  around  the  young  man's  neck. 

"  Why,  John  and  Bob,  can  it  be  you?"  said  Charley,  seizing  a 
hand  of  each.  "  We  were  just  speaking  of  you.  Didn't  know  but 
that  the  Yankees  had  you  agaiu  ;  we  were  fearful  we  should  never 
see  you." 

The  two  heroes  were  heartily  welcomed  by  all,  and  many  were 
the  congratulations  offered  on  their  safe  arrival. 

"  Well,  John,  if  you  and  Mr.  Reed  had  suffered  yourselves  to 
.be  again  taken  by  the  Yankees,  we  should  have  left  you  to  your 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  81 

fate.  '  Wouldn't  we,  Lu  ?  Couldn't  turn  nun  again  and  run  all  tho 
risk  of  being  discovered  a  second"  time  to  effect  an  escape  for  you  ?" 
And  Mary  laughed  one  of  her  sweet,  merry  laughs,  while  she 
looked  archly  first  at  her  brother,  and  then  at  her  friend,  whose 
cheeks  were  suffused  with  crimson  blushes. 

"Indeed,  Miss  Mary,  I  do  not  think  we  should  be  deserted  by 
the  ladies  in  our  misfortunes,"  replied  young  Reed.  "  You  know 
it  would  be  no  fault  of  ours,  if  we  were  even  now  within  the 
gloomy  walls  of  Camp  Chase,  instead  of  being  here  in  this  most 
delectable  society  :  and  I  feel  assured  that  you  would  again,  in 
the  generousness  of  your  heart,  rush  to  our  rescue.  Don't  you 
think  so,  Charley?"  and  Heed  looked  quizzically  at  the  young 
'  lover,  whose  eyes  were  riveted  on  the  bright,  smiling  face  of  Mary. 

It  was  now  Charley's  time  to  blush,  which  he  did  deeply,  not- 
withstanding his  effort  to  subdue  his  rising  emotion. 

"  Indeed,  indeed,  Mr.  Reed,  you  are  mistaken !"  exclaimed  Mary, 
animatedly,  at  the  same  time  manifesting  the  embarrassment  which 
seemed  to  be  becoming  general  amung  the  young  members  of  the 
circle.  "  I  advise  you  gentlemen,  to  avoid,  at  all  hazards,  another 
introduction  to  a  Federal  prison,  lest,  unhappily,  no  angels  of 
mercy  should  come  to  your  rescue." 

"A  word  to  the  wise  man,  is  sufficient,  Mr.  Reed,"  interposed 
Lu,  pleasantly,  who  had  been'  silently  listening  to  the  badinage. 
"  I  am  sure  you  will  never  again  thus  test  our  courage  and  kind- 
ness.' 

"  But  tell  us,  young  gentlemen,"  said  Mr.  R.,  who  waa  impa- 
tient to  hear  the  young  men's  story,  "  how  you. succeeded  in  get- 
ting through  to  Kentucky.  We  have  been  in  a  most  anxious  state 
of  mind,  with  regard  to  your  welfare.  I  suppose  you  have  had 
some  adventures  by  the  way — perhaps  some  narrow  escapes  from 
the  Yankees." 

"  We  feared  that  they  had  caught  yon,"  said  Mrs.  R.,  her  kind, 
motherly  face  speaking  more  than  her  words,  the  interest  of  her 
heart.  "  And  Charley  had  decided  to  leave  to:morrow,  lest  he 
should  share  the  same  fate." 

*'  How  do  you  go,  Charley  ?"  asked  young  Lawrence.  "  I  sup- 
pose you  have  some  plan  marked  out  for  getting  through  1" 

"None,  John;  I  must -trust  to  ray  wits.  Several  friends  have 
suggested  to  me  methods,  but  all  of  them  are  alike  full  of  risk. 
I  think  I  know  enough  of  the  country  through  which  I  am  to  pass, 
and  enough  of  Yankee  character  to  make  good  my  way  to  Col. 
Morgan," 

"  Ah,  you  intend  to  join  Morgan,  do  you  1  John,  that  will  be 
the  idea  for  us.  I  am  heartily  tired  of  infantry  life.  And,  more- 
over, we  need  the  exercise  and  dash  of  cavalry-men  to  restore  us 
to  our  former  vigor.  Do  we  not,  young  ladies  V  said  Reed,  with 
a  polite  bew  to  his  fair  listeners. 
6 


82  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

"  Most  assuredly,"  they  both  replied.  "  Life  with  Morgan  for 
health  and  fame." 

"But  how  do  you  propose  to  get  through,  gentlemen?"  asked 
Charley,  "  Now  that  you  are  so  experienced  in  eluding  the  vigi- 
lance of  the  foe,  doubtless  you  can  aid  me  on  my  way." 

"We  go  through  like  gentlemen,  Charley,''  responded  young 
Reed  laughing.  "  Do  you  not  think  we  are  entitled  to  this  privi- 
lege, in  virtue  of  these  handsome  new  suits  V  he  added,  at  the  same 
time  rising  from  his  chair  and  displaying  his  finished  suit  of  black 
clothes. 

"  Undoubtedly,  you  deserve  all  the  privileges  due  to  gentle- 
men," responded  Charley,  looking  somewhat  bewildered  at  young 
Reed's  manner  and  remark,  "  but  I  fear  me  you  will  find  your  new 
suit  of  black  but  poor  safeguard  against  Yankee  watchfulness  and 
hate." 

"  Oh,  my  friend,  we  by  no  means  depend  on  our  attire  for  pass- 
port through  the  lines,  only  look  to  it  to  secure  us  the  civilities  by 
the  way  due  to  Kentucky  gentlemen.  We  take  the  boat  to-mor- 
row or  next  day,  provided  these  officials  do  not  have  us  in  the 
military  prison  before  then,  and  shall  depend  on  our  permits  to  se- 
cure us  'safe  transit  to  Dixie." 

"Permits,  Bob;  what  do  you  mean?"  and  Charley's  look  of 
wonder  and  perplexity  increased. 

"  Oh,  we  get  out  as  cotton  agents,  duly  authorized.  Here,  ex- 
amine our  papers,  and  see  if  it  is  not  so,"  and  Reed  took  from  his 
pocket  and  handed  to  Charley  some  papers,  which  the  latter  took 
and  examined  carefully,  then  with  an  expression  of  mingled  sur- 
prise and  doubt,  gazed  up  into  the  face  of  his  facetious  friend, 
who,  with  young  Lawrence,  was  highly  enjoying  Charley's  en- 
tanglement. This  last  remark  of  Reed's  had  aroused  the  inqusi- 
tiveness  of  every  one  present,  and  a  look  of  curious  inquiry  rested 
on  each  face. 

Charley  opened  the  permits  and  read  them  a  second  time. 

"  Boys,  are  these  genuine?"  he  asked,  after  duly  scrutinizing 
them  again  and  again.  "  Or  do  you  design  to  attempt  to  out-Her- 
od Herod  ?" 

"  Genuine !  of  course,"  replied  Reed,  with  an  assumed  air  of 
insulted  dignity,  at  this  insinuation  against  his  honor  and  that  of 
his  friend.    "  Do  you  not  see  they  are  duly  signed  V 

"But,  if  genuine,  how  did  you  obtain  them?  Certainly,  you 
must  have  in  some  way  imposed  on -somebody." 

"  Why,  Charley,  my  friend,  have  not  James  Safford,  Esq.,  and 
John  Livingston,  ditto,  true  and  loyal  men,  who  have  endured  long 
and  dreary  exile  from  home  and  friends  beloved,  because  of  their 
ardent  devotion  to  «  this  glorious  Union,'  'the  dear  old  flag,'  and 
'  the  best  government  in  the  world,'  have  not  these  patriots,  so 
distinguished  for  their  sufferings,  a  right  to  the  protection  of  that 
government,  and  a  small  share  of  its  profits?" 


OF  xMORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  83 

This  pseudo-panegyric  on  his  own  patriotism  was  delivered  in 
such  a  farcical  manner,  that  the  whole  company  burst  into  laugh- 
ter. Charley  shared  the  merriment,  but  with  less  zest  than  the 
others. 

"  Well,  boys,"  said  he,  "  you  puzzle  me  more  and  more." 

"  Do  tell  us  the  meaning  of  these  official  documents,  and  explain 
to  us  how  they  were  procured." 

••  Oh,  do  tell  us  the  whole  story,"  cried  out  several  voices.  "We 
would  hear  all  your  adventures  through  Ohio  and  Kentucky  to 
Louisville." 

"  Our  hegira  from  Camp  Chase  was  attended  by  no  incidents 
worth  the  mention  until  we  came  to  Cincinnati.  We  traveled  on 
like  two  common  workmen,  avoiding  everything  that  looked  sus- 
picious, stopping  at  night  wherever  darkness  overtook  us,  behaving 
very  much  like  poor  men  all  unused  to  society — that  is,  playing 
mum  on  all  subjects  until  we  ascertained  the  sentiments  of  our 
host,  if  adverse  to  ours,  we  declared  lustily  in  favor  of  the  glorious 
Union,  tiraded  against  the  rebels,, and  after  that  flayed  mum  for 
the  remainder  of  the  night 

If,  however,  we  discovered  that  we  were  in  congenial  society, 
and  this  was  our  good  fortune  two  nights  out  of  four,  we  gave  full 
rein  to  our  powers  of  entertainment,  related  all  our  adventures,  an- 
swered the  many  hundred  questions  propounded  to  us  by  our,  eager 
listeners,  and  in  our  turn  gained  all  the  intelligence  we  could  about 
the  Yankees  and  their  movements. 

"  Tuesday  night,  weary  and  worn  with  our  tramp,  we  halted 
with  an  old  avaricious  Jew.  just  outside  Cincinnati.  We  told  him 
we  were,  from  Tennessee.  He  immediately  asked  if  we  knew  any- 
thing about  the  cotton  section.  John  caught  his  Wea  in  a  moment, 
and  determining  to  make  capital  out  of  it,  readily  answered  that 
we  were  well  acquainted  with  all  the  cotton  region  of  that  State. 
That  our  fathers  were  heavy  planters  and  now  had  on  hand  a  large 
amount  of  that  very  desirable  article.  The  bait  had  takeu.  The 
old  man's  eye  flashed  with  delight  under  this  intelligence,  and  he 
hinted  bis  desire  to  buy  cotton,  intimating  his  fear  to  be  found  in 
Tennessee,  lest  he  should  be  overtaken  by  the  rebels.  We  cauti- 
ously proposed  to  act  as  his  agents  should  he  desire  it. 

His  keen  black  eye  twinkled  with  the  joy  that  rilled  his  bosom, 
and  he  unhesitatingly  accepted  our  offer.  He  agreed  to  pay  us  a 
commission  on  delivery  of  the  cotton  at  Cincinnati.  We  acceded 
to  this,  and  the  contract  was  immediately  drawn  and  duly  signed. 

The  next  morning  he  took  us  to  headquarters  in  the  city,  pro- 
cured for  us  permits,  and  seeing  we  were  in  rather  a  sorry  plight, 
opened  his  narrow  Jewish  heart  sufficiently  to  give  us  a  new  hat 
and  coat  each,  paid  our  passage  to  Louisville,  and  sent  us  out  on 
our  most  lucrative  agency.  And  here  we  are  to  prosecute  our  un- 
dertaking like  gentlemen  of  the  strictest  integrity  and  highest  bu- 
siness ability," 


84  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

"  Bravo,"  exclaimed  one  and  all,  as  Bob  finished  his  story,  "you 
deserve  a  medal  for  your  triumph." 

-  "Or  to  be  breveted,"  added  Charley. 

"  So  you  see  our  stay  among  the  Buckeyes  has  rather  sharpened 
our  wits,  and  Bob  and  I  feel  that  no  emergency  can  arise  in  the  fu- 
ture that  will  seriously  trouble  us." 

"  And  you  leave  to-morrow,  do  you,  boys  1"  asked  Mr,  R.  "  I 
wish  Charley  would  go  with  you,  I  do  not  at  all  like  Ibe  thought 
of  his  setting  out  alone  to  travel  so  far  through  the  enemy's  ter- 
ritory." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  responded  young  Lawrence  ;  "  we  shall  take  the  first 
Cincinnati  boat.  This  will  obviate  the  necessity  of  renewing  our 
permits.  Charley,"  said  he,  turning  and  addressing  his  young 
friend,  "  cannot  we  devise  some  plan  that  will  insure  you  safety 
with  us." 

"  I  fear  not,  John.  We  should  have  to  practice  so  much  »de- 
ception,  and  I  should  be  so  much  more  public  than  in  a  land  trip, 
I  think  I  prefer  the  risks  of  the  latter.  I  shall  leave  very  early 
to-morrow  morning,  and  hope  soon  to  join  you  and  Bob  in  Dixie 
land,  where  under  the  victorious  banner  of  Colonel  Morgan,  we 
shall  avenge  our  wrongs  and  the  wrongs  of  the  noble  fellows  who 
yet  pine  amid  the  cruelty  of  Camp  Chase." 

Supper  was  announced,  after  which  the  family  reassembled  in 
the  parlor,  where  music  and  cheerful  conversation  made  pleasant 
the  fast  fleeting  hours.  Southern  songs  were  sung  by  the  young 
people,  in  which  Mr.  and  Mrs.  R.  joined  with  that  zest  which 
told,  in  word  and  look,  their  devotion  to  the  cause  to  which  they 
had  yielded  up  their  son.  The  hours  tripped  by  with  rosy  feet. 
Yet  there  were  moments  when  the  heart,  leaving  behind  the  de- 
lights of  the  present,  looked  out  with  trembling  on  the  sad  parting 
of  the  morrow. 

The  hour  came  for  the  young  men  to  leave,  as  it  was  necessary 
for  them  to  be  in  the  city,  that  they  might  avail  themselves  of  the 
first  Cincinnati  packet.  With  renewed  pledges  of  friendship  and 
mutual  wishes  for  safety  and  success,  the  three  young  men  bade 
each  other  adieu. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  85 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


THE    NASHVILLE    PE.NITE.VTIARY. 

The  morning  came.  Charley  was  ready  to  set  out  on  his  per- 
ilous journey.  We  need  not  describe  the  parting.  Ah,  has  not 
every  homestead  throughout  the  land  witnessed  the  same  sad 
scene  ?  And  the  heart  has  but  to  recall  its  own  bitter  experience 
to  realize,the  gloom  of  that  darkened  household,  as  the  angel  of 
grief  folded  its  wing  over  each  stricken  bosom. 

We  would  not  invade  the  sacred  sorrow  of  the  young,  loving 
heart  of  her  who  was  now  called  upon  to  yield  up  to  the  dread 
chances  of  war  that  heart's  idol.  It  were  sacrilegious  to  invade 
the  hallowed  temple  where,  mid  the  purity  of  such  deathless  affec- 
tion, and  the  clinging  memories  of  the  years  gone  by  the  beloved 
image  sat  enshrined. 

Ah,  how  very  poor  is  all  language  to  express  the  keen  emotions 
of  joy  and  sorrow  that  the  human  heart  is  capable  of  experiencing 
No.  analysis  can  do  justice  to  the  varied  shades  of  feeling  that 
move  its  inmost  springs,  and  full  .often,  even  in  a  moment  of  time, 
give  rise  to  thoughts  and  emotions  that  influence  the  life  through- 
out all  coming  years. 

"  Circumstances  light  as  straws  are  levers  in  the  building  up  of 
character." 

Fired  with  a  loftier  devotion  to  the  cause  he  had  embraced,  since 
by  sore  experience  he  had  become  acquainted  with  the  infamy  and 
injustice  of  those  who  opposed  it,  inured  to  deprivations  and  suf- 
ferings, with  a  score  of  deep  personal  wrongs  to  avenge,  our  young 
hero  left  home  a  second  time  to  engage  in  the  great  struggle,  & 
wiser  and  a  more  determined  man. 

By  the  exercise  of  his  ingenuity  and  daring,  both  of  which  had. 
greatly  developed  under  the  stern  teachings  of  the  last  eight 
months,  he  succeeded  in  reaching  Gallatin,  Tennessee.  From 
here  it  was  his  intention  to  proceed  to  the  vicinity  of  Nashville, 
hoping  that,  as  Col.  Morgan  was  frequently  dashing  around  in  the 
neighborhood  of  that  city,  he  should  be  able  to  join  his  command 
without  delay. 

Leaving  Gallatin,  he  crossed  the  Cumberland,  and  was  proceed- 
ing towards  Nashville,  when  one  morning  about  6  o'clock  he  was 
accosted  by  a  squad  of  Lincolnites,  who  imperatively  bade  him 
halt.  His  astonishment  was  so  great  at  this  unexpected  meeting 
with  the  enemy  that  for  the  moment  he  lost  his  self-possession, 


86  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

"and  before  be  could  recover  his  equipoise,  be  found  himself  sur- 
rounded by  six  burly  Indianians,  who,  seizing  his  bridle  rein  and 
presenting  their  pistols  to  his  breast,  claimed  him  as  their  prisoner. 

Recovering  himself  he  manifested  great  surprise  and  indigna- 
tion, protesting  against  their  act,  alledging  that  they  had  no  right 
to  arrest  him,  an  unarmed  citizen,  who  was  passing  through  the 
country  on  business  of  his  own. 

They  questioned  him  closely,  evidently  not  at  all  satisfied  with 
his  story,  and  bis  answers,  ambiguous  and  indefinite  as  they  neces- 
sarily were,  fixed  their  suspicions.  He  was  arrested,  sent  under 
guard  to  Nashville,  where,  refusing  to  take  the  oath,  he  was  com- 
mitted to  prison  as  a  spy.  And  thus  in  a  few  brief  hours  were 
all  his  bright  expectations,  all  his  joyous  hopes  dashed  as  by  the 
hand  of  some  pitiless  divinity,  and  he  whose  soul  had  panted  for 
the  contest  and  the  fray,  whose  thoughts  had  dwelt  but  upon 
glory  and  revenge,  found  himself  a  helpless,  hopeless  prisoner  in 
the  power  of  his  detested  foe. 

Ah,  how  bitter  were  his  reflections  as  he  lay  in  his  narrow  cell, 
isolated  from  the  world  without,  friendless,  devoid  of  hope.  Des- 
pair came  to  be  a  guest  with  him,  overshadowing  with  its  leaden 
wing,  both  present  and  future,  and  the  two  sat  down  together 
over  the  grave  of  buried  joy  and  blighted  hope,  to  mourn  unavail- 

ingly. 

After  a  few  days  passed  in  this  deep  despondency,  our  young, 
hero  rallied,  and  with  that  desperation  that  impels  to  the  most 
daring  exertions,  he  aroused  himself,  resolving  to  escape  or  perish 
in  the  attempt. 

He  soon  managed  through  another  prisoner,  a  young  Tennes- 
seean,  who  enjoyed  more  privileges  than  did  Charley,  to  make 
known  his  condition  to  some  Southern  gentleman  of  the  city,  who 
undertook  to  effect  his  release.  His  case  underwent  investigation, 
nothing  could  be  substantiated  against  him,  and  he  was  offered 
liberty  on  condition  that  be  would  take  the  oath.  This  he  per- 
emptorily refused  to  do,  urging  that  they  had  no  right  thus  to 
question  his  loyalty,  and,  unless  they  could  satisfactorily  establish 
that  he  had  compromised  it,  it  was  an  insult  to  his  honor  to  re- 
quire him  to  take  any  oath,     . 

This  course  of  reasoning  being  by  no  means  convincing  to  the 
obtuse  minds  of  his  judges,  he  was  remanded  to  prison. 

Loathsome  beyond  the  power  of  words  to  portray,  was  the  cell 
allotted  to  him.  Filled  with  vermin  of  all  kinds,  with  a  negro  on 
one  side  and  a  criminal  on  the  other ;  shut  out  from  the  light  of 
day,  damp  and  noisome,  it  would  have  been  cruelty  to  have  im- 
mured a  felon  of  the  most  atrocious  character  within  its  dreadful 
walls.  Added  to  this,  the  meagre  exercise  he  was  permitted  to 
take  was  insufficient  to  preserve  his  health,  and  his  food,  of  the 
coarsest  and  most  unwholesome  nature,  was  furnished  in  such 
scant  supplies,  as  scarcely  to  support  life.  All  he  had  undergone 
at  Camp  Chase  was  as  nothing  compared  to  his  present  tortures. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  37 

He  soon  became  convinced  that  without  a  change  he  must  die — 
yet  he  would  not  take  the  oath. 

Charley  had  been  in  prison  about  a, week,  when  one  morning 
early  he  was  suddenly  aroused  by  a  noise  in  front  of  his  cell. 
Starting  to  his  feet,  he  peered  through  the  iron  bars  of  his  grate, 
to  endeavor  to  ascertain  the  cause. 

By  the  flickering  light  of  the  lamp  he  saw  a  young  man  forced 
along  by  two  of  the  guard,  who  held  him  on  either  side.  He  was 
tall,  handsome,  and  wore  the  defiant  look  of  one  who  had  made  up 
his  mind  never, to  yield.  The  prisoner  was  dressed  in  citizen's 
garb,  but  his  sun-browned  brow  and  military  air  bespoke  him  a 
soldier. 

With  a  brutal  oath  he  was  rudely  thrust  by  the  coarse,  unfeel- 
ing men  into  the  second  cell  from  Charley. 

"  Who  can  this  be  ?  "  soliloquized  Charley,  as  he  threw  himself 
back  upon  his  iron  bed,  and  passed  his  hand  over  his  forehead,  as 
if  to  collect  his  scattered  thoughts.  "He  cannot  be  a  convict  ? 
No — no.  That  fine  face,  and  manly  form,  and  air  of  hauteur,  tan 
belong  to  none  other  than  a  gentleman.  How  defiantly  he  scowled 
on  the  guard  as  they  bore  him  along.  There  is  spirit  not  to  be 
subdued  in  that  breast.  The  true,  genuine  soul  that  defies  time 
and  circumstance,  and  acknowledges  no  conqueror  but  death.  I 
almost  fancy  I  have  seen  that  face  before,  and  that  proud  form 
looks  strangely  familiar.  He  must  be  a  Kentuckian — one  of  Mor- 
gan's men.  Looks  something  like  Colonel  Morgan  himself — so 
brave,  so  noble,  so  daring.  Can  it  be  he?  Oh,  no  ;  he  would  die 
first.  I  do  wish  I  knew  who  it  is.  I'll  make  his  acquaintance  the 
first  opportunity.  Wonder  if  he  would  take  that  oath — that  vile, 
detestable  oath  !  I'm  sure  he  will  not.  No  one  with  that  look 
would  ever  submit  to  such  degradation  !  So  we  shall  be  fellow- 
prisoners  for  a  long  time.  Perhaps — "  and  Charley  shuddered  at 
the  dark  thought — "perhaps  for  life.  We  may  both  die  in  this 
horrid  place." 

Charley  made  his  plain  toilet  with  a  degree  of  animation  he  had 
never  before  felt  since  he  entered  that  dark  and  noisome  abode. 
While  he  was  thus  engaged,  a  strain  of  music  arrested  his  atten- 
tion.   He  pressed  his  ear  close  to  the  iron  bars  to  catch  the  words : 

"  Awake  and  to  horse,  my  brothers — 
Look  up  to  the  rising  sun, 
And  ask  of  the  God  that  shines  there, 
If  deeds  like  these  shall  be  done  ! " 

He  listened.  The  thrilling  words  were  repeated.  The  voice 
was  clear  and  musical,  and,  although  somewhat  subdued,  the  ex- 
pression bespoke  the  strong,  deep  feeling  of  the  heart  that  gave 
utterance  to  the  stirring  words. 

"  Hush  your  singing  there,  fellow,  and  behave  yourself,"  said 
the  guard,  in  a  coarse,  gruff  tone,  as  he  passed  by.  The  music 
ceased.     Charley  fancied  he   heard  a  suppressed   oath.     But  he 


88  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

was  mistaken.  The  dark  vow  of  vengeance  was  uttered  only  by 
the  bursting  heart.  It  needed  nob' words  to  give  it  strength,  of 
purpose  or  remembrance. 

"  I  go  from  here  at  all  hazards.  I  go  to  be  avenged.  This  in- 
sult shall  be  atoned  for  by  blood." 

Thus  vowed  the  prisoner,  as  with  fury-lit  eyes  and  elevated 
hands  he  stood  beside  his  barred  door  and  looked  upon  the  wretch 
who  had  insulted  him.  And  fearfully  has  that  vow  been  kept. 
Beside  the  low  Muskingham,  where  the  evening  winds  wail  through 
the  forest  trees  a  sad  requiem  for  the  slain,  in  the  desolate  cottage 
sits  the  lone  widow,  with  her  three  little  children,  mourning  over 
the  lost  husband.  She  knows  not  where  he  lies.  But  this  she 
has  heard,  "He  was  killed  by  one  of  Morgan's  men." 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


THE      PRISON       CHAT 


At  breakfast  the  two  prisoners  met.  Glances  were  exchanged. 
It  was  enough.  They  understood  each  other,  and  as  they  filed 
out,  Charley  touched  the  young  man  on  the  shoulder,  and  whis- 
pered, "  Southern  1  " 

A  slight  nod  of  the  head  and  a  smile  was  the  only  reply. 

"Meet  me  in  the  courtyard,"  Charley  said,  in  an  undertone ;  "  I 
want  to  talk  with  you." 

It  was  several  days  before  the  proposed  interview  took  place, 
for  at  first  the  young  man  was  not  permitted  to  leave  his  cell  ex- 
cept to  come  to  his  meals.  In  the  meantime,  Charley  had  learned 
from  snatches  of  conversation  in  going  to  and  from  the  table,  that 
the  prisoner  was  one  af  Morgan's  men,  caught  within  the  Federal 
lines.  But  as  he  was  in  civilian's  garb  when  arrested,  and  not 
known  to  any  one  in  Nashville,  it  was  not  likely  his  punishment 
would  be  anything  more  than  imprisonment. 

At  length,  after  a  week's  close  confinement,  the  young  man  was 
permitted  to  walk  in  the  open  court  with  the  other  political  pris- 
oners.- 

The  first,  opportunity  that  offered  for  conversation  was  eagerly 
seized  upon  by  the  two  Kentuckians,  to  inquire  into  the  past  his- 
tory of  each  other,  and  lay  plans  for  future  action. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MES.  89 

"I  came  out  from  Kentucky  last  September  with  Col.  Morgan, 
and  have  been  with  bim  since  until  a  few  weeks  ago,"  implied  the 
young  man  to  Charley's  interrogatory. 

"  Then  we  have  met  before.  I,  too,  was  in  'Camp  Secret,'  and 
came  through  with  that  fearful  expedition  to  Green  River.  There 
I  joined  Col.  Hanson's  regiment — " 

"And  were  taken  prisoner  at  Donelson,"  interrupted  the  list- 
ener, eagerly. 

"  Tes,  and  sent  with  others  to  damp  Chase." 

"  And  escaped  from  prison  !  How  did  you  succeed  in  doing  it, 
and  how  came  you  here?"  asked  the  young  man,  hurriedly,  his 
face  brightening  with  the  interest  he  felt  in  the  fate  of  his  new 
acquaintance. 

Charley  briefly  and  graphically  recounted  his  story.  His  com- 
panion listened  with  breathless  attention. 

"  Quite  an  adventure,  indeed.  You  are  already  a  hero.  How 
unfortunate  that  after  all  your  trials,  and  your  successful  escape, 
you  should  again  be  taken  and  lodged  in  this  disgusting  den. — 
Better  by  far  be  in  Camp  Chase,  than  in  this  miserable  place. 
Surely,  no  other  prison-house  in  all  the  range  of  Yankeedom  can 
be  as  horrid  as  this !  " 

"  That  is  wretched  enough,  I  assure  you,  but  this  is  far  worse. 
But  I  find  the  same  brutality  and  coarseness  characterize  their 
officers  and  guard  everywhere  ;  in  this  respect  I  discover  no  differ- 
ence."' 

"  Can  this  be  so  1  I  had  supposed  that  on  their  own  soil,  re- 
moved from  any  apprehension  of  danger,  and  free  from  the  pro- 
voking influences  of  daily  contact  with  Southern  people,  they 
would  manifest  some  degree  of  humanity.  I  know  they  are  every- 
where cold,  heartless  and  overbearing ;  but  I  thought  they  must 
be  more  brutal  here  than  there." 

"  No  better  there  than  here.  Vulgarity,  coarseness,  I  might  say 
fiendishness,  are  each  day  experienced  by  the  prisoners  at  Camp 
Chase,  and  there  remains  to  them  no  redress.  I  will  give  you  an 
illustration  of  their  savage  cruelty  in  one  of  the  most  heartless  in- 
cidents that  ever  blackened  the  record  of  any  people,  however 
savage.     It  took  place  while  I  was  a  prisoner  there  : 

•'  A  poor  man  was  arrested  in  "Western  Virginia  for  alleged  dis- 
loyalty. As  usual,  no  charge  Was  brought  against  him,  save  this 
general  one.  He  was  told  that  he  must  go  to  prison  with  the 
guard.  '  To  what  prison  V  he  asked.  '  No  matter  to  what  prison.' 
they  answered  with  an  oath.  'You  must  go  with  us,  and  that 
right  away.  We  have  no  time  to  wait.'  It  was  night,  The 
wretched  man  knew  not  what  to  do,  for  in  the  low  bed  beside  bim 
slept  his  three  motherless  children.  He  f«lt  he  must  obey  the  in- 
human order,  but  how  could  he  leave  his  little  ones  without  pro- 
tection, without  any  one  to  care  for  them  ?  The  eldest  was  nine, 
the  youngest  only  thre«  years  old.     An  old  negro  woman,  who  at- 


90  EAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

tended  to  the  children,  was  the  only  being  about  the  house,  and 
she  was  no  safeguard  against  the  brutal  soldiery  that  infested  the 
neighborhood.  In  his  great  extremity,  not  knowing  what  else  to 
do,  the  wretched  father  besought  his  captors  to  allow  his  children 
to  go  with  him  to  prison.  The  request,  s,trange  to  say,  was  grant- 
ed. The  four  were  brought  to  Camp  Chase.  The  poor  man  was 
placed  in  strict  confinement ;  his  children  were  imprisoned  in  an- 
other part  of  the  ground.  They  were  never  permitted  to  see  each 
other.  With  the  most  heart-rending  entreaties  the  stricken  father 
implored  to  see  his  children — only  once.  The  children  wept  and  • 
prayed  to  see  the  father.  Day  after  day,  week  after  week,  were 
entreaties,  groans  and  cries  poured  into  the  deaf  ear  of  the  hellish 
guard.  But  all  was  useless.  Their  hearts  were  harder  than  the 
adamant — the  permission  was  never  granted. 

"  The  health  of  the  heart-broken  man  gave 'way  under  his  heavy 
grief  and  close  confinement.  He  languished  on  amid  his  dark  sor- 
rows, -and  then  died.  In  his  last  moments  he  prayed,  entreated, 
besought  tham  just  to  let  him  see  his  children  once,  that  he  might 
bless  them  before  he  closed  his  eyes  in  death.  He  was  told  his 
children  were  doing  very  well,  but  he  could  not  see  them. 

"And  thus,  calling  for  his  'children,'  his  'poor  little  children,' 
his  '  motherless  children,1  the  agonized  spirit  of  that  poor  out- 
raged father  went  up  with  its  tale  of  deep,  damning  wrong  before 
the  tribunal  of  the  Lord  Jehovah." 

The  youpg  man  grew  pale  as  he  listened.  "  My  God  !"  ex- 
claimed he,  springing  to  his  feet  and  clenching  his  hands,  as  if  in  a 
paroxysm,  "  was  there  ever,  ever,  such  brutality,  such  dark,  hell- 
ish cruelty.  God  in  heaven  will  avenge  that  injured  man.  I 
swear  by' all  that's  holy,  that  if  ever  again  I  meet  these  fiends  on 
the  battle-field,  the  thoughts  of  that  poor  man's  wrongs  shall  move 
my  heart  to  do,  and  dare,  and  die,  that  he  and  his  helpless  child- 
ren may  be  avenged." 

"  And  I  have  seen  the  guard  shoot  a  man  dead  merely  because 
in  play  he  had  accidently  stepped  beyond  the  limits  assigned  him. 
And  again,  another  was  shot  by  a  vile  Dutchman  because  he  care- 
lessly threw  his  arm  across  the  wretch's  path.," 

"  And  what,  sir,  have  we  to  hope  from  such  a  people  1"  exclaim- 
ed the  young  man,  clenching  his  teeth,  while  his  face  assumed  a 
look  of  desperate  revenge.  "  Call  them  brothers,  friends  1  They 
are  devils  incarnate — fiends  from  the  lowest  pit.  Never,  never 
could  I  recognize  them  in  any  other  light  than  foes,  enemies  that 
must  be  defeated,  swept  from  the  face  of  the  earth.  Oh,  that  every 
Southern  man  could  hear  that  tale  of  cruelty,  that  it  might  nerve 
his  arm  in  the  day  of  conflict!  Blood  for  blood,  life  for  life.  Tbey 
drive  us  to  it,  sir,  and  I  take  the  issue." 

The  young  nsan's  face  was  flushed  with  the  wildest  excitement. 
His  whole  frame  trembled — he  started  forward  as  if  to  meet  the 
dastard  foe. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  91 

For  several  minutes  not  a  word  was  spoke.n.    The  resolves  of 
that  fearful  moment  were  never  forgotten. 

The  bell  rang  that  summoned  the  prisoners  to  their  wretched 
supper. 

In  a  few  days  the  two  met  again.    The  conversation  turned  up- 
on the  feasibility  of  escape,  and  of  joining  Col.  Morgan. 

"I  have  heard  of  many  wonderful  feats  performed  by  Colonel 
Morgan,  in  the  vicinity  of  this  place,"  said  Charley  to  his  new 
formed  acquaintance,  as  the  two  seated  themselves  on  some  loose' 
stones,  beneath  the  shadow  of  the  frowning  wall.     "  I  suppose  his 
daring  is  remarkable  V 

"  There  is  not,  sir,  a  braver  or  more  resolute  man  living.  I 
have  been  with  him  in  most  of  his  adventures,  and  such  courage, 
combined  with  foresight  and  caution,  I  have  never,  in  my  life,  wit- 
nessed. On  one  occasion,  very  soon  after  the  Yankees  took  pos- 
session of  this  place,  few,  about  thirty  in  number,  dressed  in  Fed- 
eral uniform,  under  the  direction  of  Colonel  Morgan,  swept  round 
•  the  city,  and  obtaining  a  good  position  on  the  other  side  of  the 
river,  halted  for  a  few  minutes  to  plan  an  attack.  Our  object  was 
to  set  fire  to  two  boats  which  were  above  the  fleet  in  the  river,  and 
send  them  enveloped  in  flames  to  communicate  the  fire  to  the 
others.  As  I  remarked,  we  halted  some  little  distance  out  from 
the  city.  Colonel  Morgan  then  dispatched  five  of  us  into  town  to 
fire  the  boats.  Uniformed  like  the  Yankees,  we  passed  along  the 
streets  unnoticed — " 

"Did  you  do  this  during  the  day  V  asked  Charley,  in  surprise. 

"Oh,  yes,  it  was  early  in  the  evening.  Following  Col.  Mor- 
gan's instructions,  we  crossed  the  river  to  this  side,  the  boats  be- 
ing at  the  main  lauding,  walked  leisurely  through  the  streets,  en- 
countering every  where  Yankee  soldiers  aud  civilians,  gained  the 
point  nearest  the  lower  boat,  which  stood  out  a  little  way  in  the 
river.  It  was  an  old  affair,  and  was  left  in  the  possession  of  ne- 
groes and  three  Irish  soldiers.  Securing  a  yawl  that  was  near, 
we  put  out  for  the  boat.  On  reaching  it,  young  Warlield,  from 
Lexington,  took  command  of  the  arrangements.  We  boarded  the 
boat,  and  ordered  off  to  shore  the  three  Irish  soldiers  and  a  portion 
of  the  negroes,  with  instructions  that  they  should  be  landed  and  the 
yawl  brought  back  to  the  boat.  Warfield  ordered  every  man  re- 
Iknaining  on  board  to  get  into  the  yawl.  He  then  proceeded  alone 
to  fire  the  boat  at  four  different  points.  This  done,  he  left  the 
vessel,  from  which  the  flames  were  already  bursting,  and  jumping 
into  the  yawl,  commanded  the  boatmen,  at  the  peril  of  their  life, 
to  row  to  the  opposite  side.  Before  we  reached  the  bank  the  boat, 
which  was  now  slowly  floating  down  the  river,  was  discovered  by 
the  Yankees  to  be  on  fire.  Great  was  the  consternation  in  their 
ranks  when  this  became  known,  as  the  fleet  below  contained  many 
sick  soldiers.  We  reached  the  bank,  waved  our  hats  at  the  affright- 
ed Yankees  congregated  on  the  opposite  side,  bade  them  adieu,  and 
finding  our  horses,  returned  safely  to  the  command." 


93  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

"  And  did  your  plan  succeed  1    It  certainly  was  full  of  daring." 

"  We  have  learned  from  the  Yankee  papers  that  the  boat  was 
arrested  in  its  downward  course  in  time  to  save  the  other  boats. 
What  damage  they  suffered,  we  did  not  learn.  A  few  days  after 
this,  as  Colonel  Morgan  was  riding  in  advance  of  the  body  of  his 
men,  accompanied  by  only  two  others,  he  met  a  Yankee  Colonel 
and  his  staff  trotting  along  very  leisurely.     '  Halt,'  said  Morgan. 

".'I'll  be  d — d  if  I  do,'  was  the  reply  ;  'I  have  already  been 
halted  a  half  dozen  times  since  I  left  Nashville,  and  I'll  submit  to 
it  no  longer.     Whos  are  you,  any  how  V 

"  Morgan  quickly  drew  out  his  pistol  and  presented  it.  '  Mor- 
gan,' he  very  quietly  replied  to  the  Yankee's  interrogatory.  *  And 
you  are  my  prisoner.' 

"  The  Yankee  made  no  further  resistance.  He  and  his  escort, 
beside  a  considerable  force  which  followed  in  the  rear,  were  made 
prisoners  by  Morgan  and  his  men.  We  were  pursued  by  a  heavy 
Federal  force,  and  young  Warfield,  who'was  guiding  the  rear  de- 
tachment, after  having  two  horses  shot  under  him,  was  taken  pris- 
oner.    The  remainder  escaped." 

"  And  where  is  he'  now  1"  Asked  Charley. 

"  In  Camp  Douglas.  He  was  for  a  long  time  confined  here,  but 
they  fearing  he  would  be  rescued,  finally  sent  him  North. 

"  On  another  occasion,  about  forty  of  us  in  number,  headed  by 
Morgan,  dashed  in  upon  their  pickets  one  moi»i»g  early,  and  cap- 
tured eighteen  out  of  thirty.  At  another  time,  a  few  days  after- 
words, learning  by  some  means  that  Gen.  McCook  and  staff  would 
pass  out  on  the  Murfreesboro  road,  Colonel  Morgan  placed  some 
fifty  of  us  in  ambush,  at  a  point  just  beyond  the  toll-gate,  to  cap- 
ture the  Yankee  General  and  his  whole  staff.  The  old  gate  keeper, 
who  had  observed  our  movements,  informed  McCook  that  there 
were  about  one  hundred  armed  men  in  the  woods  ahead  of  them. 
McCook  soon  became  convinced  of  the  danger ;  and  putting  spurs 
to  their  horses,  the  whole  party  proceeded,  at  Gilpin  speed,  never 
for  a  moment  halting,  until  they  reached  the  city.  The  gate-keeper 
paid  the  penalty  of  his  treachery.  The  boys  seized  upon  him  and 
hung  him  before  Colonel  Morgan  could  interfere  in  his  behalf. 

"  Not  long  after  this,  Gen.  Buell  was  accosted  as  he  went  out 
from  dinner  on  the  landing  of  the  hotel  by  a  wagoner,  who  inform-^ 
ed  him  that  the  next  day  a  squad  of  rebels  was  coming  into  his' 
(the  wagoner's)- neighborhood  to  procure  provisions,  and  that  if  the 
General  would  send  out  some  cavalry  the  whole  force  might  be 
captured.  Buell  asked  the  wagoner  his  name.  He  gave  it,  and 
told  the  Yankee  General  that  he  would  keep  him  posted  with  re- 
gard to  the  movements  of  the  secesh.  Buell,  suspecting  there 
might  be  some  trick  in  the  matter,  inquired  into  it.  To  his  sur- 
prise, he  was  convinced  it  was  a  verity,  as  there  was  just  such  a 
man  living  in  the  designated  neighborhood  who  was  a*  wagoner, 
well  known  to  the  community  for  his  honesty  and  probity. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  93 

"  The  wagoner,  who  in  reality  was  no  other  than  Col.  Morgan, 
duly  "disguised,  soon  disappeared  from  the  hotel.  After  he  had 
looked  round  the  streets  to  his  satisfaction,  and  heard  all  the  news, 
he  left  one  of  our  men  behind  to  spy  their  movements  and  apprise 
him  of  the  starting  of  the  expedition,  and  regained  the  camp  in 
safety. 

"  The  next  evening  the  Lincolnites  set  out  highly  elated  with  the 
glory  and  success  that  their  enterprise  promised.  Just  before  they 
left  Nashville,  the  man  who  had  been  keeping  a  strict  watch  over 
their  movements,  mounted  his  horse,  and  following  the  nearest 
route  to  our  encampment,  gave  Col.  Morgan  the  information. 

"  Immediately  the  Colonel  prepared  for  the  capture  of  the  whole 
force.  The  men  were  so  arranged  and  instructed,  that  the  escape 
of  the  Yankees  was  impossible.  On  they  came,  dashing  like  mail- 
ed horsemen  of  the  old  time,  their  clanking  sabres  and  tramping 
horses  making  the  earth  to  resound  witb  mighty  reverberations. 
When  they  were  sufficiently  ensnared,  the  signal  was  given,  and 
we  rushed  upon  their  front  and  rear.  Our  success  was  complete. 
Out  of  eighty  that  came  to  our  overthrow,  there  escaped  but  four 
or  five  to  tell  the  tale  of  their  surprise  and  defeat." 

"  I  cannot  remain  here  in  captivity,  while  my  comrades  are  cov- 
ering themselves  with  glory  !"  exclaimed  Charley,  his  enthusiasm 
roused  to  the  highest  degree  under  the  young  man's  thrilling  re- 
cital. "  I  must  go  from  here — go  where  I  can  raise  my  arm  in  my 
country's  cause.  But,  alas  !  how  can  I  get  out  fqpm  this  loath- 
some place  ?"  he  added,  sighing  deeply. 

"  There  is  but  one  way,  my  friend." 

"  And  what  is  that  V  asked  Charley,  his  face  growing  instantly 
animated  at  the  bare  posibility  of  escape. 

"  Take  the  oath.     There  is  no  other  way." 

"  Take  the  oath  !"  he  exclaimed,  starting  from  his  seat.  "  Take 
that  infamous  oath  1  Never — never  !  Death,  a,  thousand  deaths, 
first !" 

"  It  is  humiliating  in  one\iew  of  the  case  ;  but,  in  this  instance, 
I  have  decided  '  to  stoop  to  conquer,'  and  I  shall  take  the  oath  to- 
morrow. Were  there  any  other  alternative,  I  would  not  resort  to 
this  means  of  escape.  But  there  remains  to  me  nothing  but  this 
or  death.     I  choose  the  former." 

The  guard  approached  where  the  two  were  sitting.  It  was  the 
same  who  had  so  abruptly  hushed  the  prisoner's  song.  The  young 
man  recognized  him.  His  brow  became  darkt and  knitted,  and  his 
lips  firmly  compressed.  He  gazed  a  moment  upon  his  foe  and 
passed  to  another  part  of  the  enclosure. 

"  Have  you  decided  the  question  of  taking  the  oath  ?"  asked  the 
young  man,  as  he  encountered  Charley  in  .the  long,  dark  passage 
that  led  to  the  celb 

"Oh,  no,  no — I  cannot.  I  was  offered  my  liberty  when  I  came 
here,  if  1  would  but  swear  to  its  detestable  requirements.  I  re- 
fused.   I  would  rather  perish  than  to  do  l£" 


94  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

"  I  appreciate  your  sentiments.  They  have  been  mine — but  my 
'Views  have  changed.  Of  what  avail  will  it  be  to  me  or  my  coun- 
try, if  I  lie  here  and  rot,  merely  to  gratify  the  cruel  hate  of  these 
wretches?  I'll  take  their  oath,  and  then  go  forth  to  slay  them; 
and  in  so  doing  I  shall  not  feel  that  I  have  sinned  against  God,  or 
sacrificed  my  honor.  It  is  this,  or  death  here.  They  force  me  to 
it.  I  take  what  appears  to  me  the  less  of  two  evils.  They  have 
proved  nothing  against  me.  They  will  not  bring  me  to  trial,  that 
I  may  have  justice,  and  they  shall  not  keep  "me  here  to  die." 

"  You  speak  truly,"  replied  Charley  ;  "we  shall  have  no  show 
of  justice.  I  know  that  I  must  take  the  vile  oath  or  die  here,  amid 
wretchedness  and  filth.  I  carmot  escape — they  will  never  bring 
me  to  trial.  And  yet,  in  view  of  all  this,"  he  added,  after  a  few 
moment's  pause,  "  I  cannot  see  how  I  can  take  that  oath." 

"  I  do  not  advise  you  to  act  against  your  convictions  of  honor. 
You  must  decide  for  yourself.  I  have  fully  made  up  my  mind,  and 
shall  take  the  oath  to-morrow.  I  think  it  is  the  wisest  thrlg  you 
can  do.     But  you  must  rely  on  your  own  judgment." 

The  two  separated,  each  to  bis  noisome  cell. 


CHAPTER  XX. 


REFLECTIONS    AND    ITS    RESULT*. 

Charley  lay  in  his  dark  and  narrow  cell  that  night,  his  mind 
perplexed  with  the  questien  before  him.  Hour  after  hour  passed 
on,  the  silence  all  unbroken,  save  by  the  dull  tramp  of  the  sentry, 
and  yet  the  decision  was  not  reached.  His  noble  nature  revolted 
at  the  idea  of  the  humiliating  act.  How  could  he  sacrifice  his 
honor  by  pledging  himself  to  do  that  which  his  soul  detested  ? 
How  could  he  again  meet  his  parents  and  friends  with  that  burn- 
ing curse  at  his  heart  ? 

"  Had  I  better  die  a  wretched  death,  than  cover  myself  with  this 
deep  infamy  V  he  said  to  himself,  as  he  turned  uneasily  on  his  iron 
bed.  "I  do  not  regard  it  as  a  sin.  God  will  not  hold  me  responsi- 
ble for  saving  my  life  by  any  means  from  the  hands  of  these  heart- 
less tyrants.  Oh,  no,  a  just  Maker  will  not  condemn.  Life  or  death, 
which  shall  I  hava  1     Shall  I  languish  here  for  month's  and  then 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  95 

go  down  to  the  grave  while  my  country  needs  my  service,  or  shall  I 
accept  the  only  method  of  escape  that  is  offered  me,  and  go  forth 
to  vindicate  justice  and  truth  against  hellish  wrong  and  fanatical 
error?  Here  I  can  do  nothing — in  the  battle-field  I  might  avenge 
some  wrong  that  my  people  have  suffered,  strike  some  blow  that 
will  aid  in  their  redemption.  Others  have  taken  this  oath — men  of 
high  and  noble  sentiments — rather  than  die,  as  I  must  do,  in  a 
horrid  prison.  If  I  could  but  escape;  but  this  I  cannot  do,  it  is 
utterly  impossible — ii»i  ossi!  ip' 

Thus,  until  the  night  watches  were  far  spent,  did  he  debate  the 
knotty  question.  Sleep  overtook  him,  and  found  him  yet  undeter- 
mined. He  awoke  from  his  fitful  slumbers,  which  had  been  haunt- 
ed by  horrid  dreams.  He  felt  all  the  wretchedness  of  the  low, 
damp  cell,  rilled  with  every  variety  of  disgusting  vermin.  His 
brain  reeled  with  exhaustion,  his  whole  frame  trembled  with  feeble- 
ness, which  every  day  must  increase.  He  looked  hastily  back  upon 
all  he  had  endured,  then  forward  to  all  he  must  yet  suffer,  and, 
clasping  his  hands  to  his  burning  forehead,  he  exclaimed  "  I 
cannot  endure  this !  I  will  go — I  must  go  !"  It  was  all  he  said. 
The  decision  had  been  made,  and  he  drove  the  detested  subject 
from  his  mind.  It  had  been  a  fearful  struggle,  but  it  was  over, 
and  forever. 

»  "  I  go,"  he  said  to  the  young  man,  as  they  met  at  the  door  of 
the  dining  room.  "  Ask  me  no  questions,  but  make  known  my  re- 
quest with  yours,  and  we  will  go  out  together." 

Let  us  kindly  throw  a  vail  over  this  scene  of  deep  humiliation 
through  which  these  two  proud,  honorable  spirits  were  called  to 
pass,  and  shut  out  forever  from  remembrance  the  narrow,  disgust- 
ing room,  with  its  low-browed,  arrogant  official,  and  bis  train  of 
base  attendants ;  the  taunt,  the  jeer  of  the  mocking  crowd  ;  the 
burning  cheek,  the  trembling  frame,  moved  by  the  deep  indigna- 
tion that  heaved  within  ;  the  defiant  eye,  the  compressed  mouth  ; 
the  deep,  dark  oAth  which  the  proud  heart  took,  while  the  lips  were 
speaking  strange  words  ;  the  look  of  scorn  and  bitter  detestation, 
as  they  turned  to  seek  the  streets — all  this  we  pass  as  far  too  sad 
to  dwell  upon. 

The  trying  ordeal  is  over.  The  two  young  men  are  once  more 
free. 


96  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


SEARCH  FOR  COLONEL  MORGAN'S  CAMP. 

i       .  '  few 

"  And  now  for  Morgan ! "  said  George  Irving,  as  the  two 
gained  the  street. 

"  But  how  shall  we  get  there?  You  who  know  this  country, 
Irving,  must  devise  the  plan."  . 

"  The  first  thing  to  be  done  is  to  visit  a  barber ;  the  next,  to 
obtain  a  disguise." 

"  But  how  is  this  latter  to  be  procured  Irving  ?  Every  cent  I 
had  was  taken  from  me  when  they  put  me  in  prison,  and  I  have 
not  a  friend  to  whom  I  would  dare  to  apply." 

"You  mentioned  to  me  a  gentleman  who  interested  himself  for 
you  when  you  Were  first  committed.  Do  you  know  where  he  re- 
sides 1  I  would  not  for  a  moment  hesitate  to  make  known  our 
circumstances  to  any  true  Southern  man.-  I  am  sure  such  an  one 
could  not  be  addressed  in  vain." 

"  Indeed,  I  cannot  find  him.  I  have  no  idea  where  he  is.  I 
but  saw  him  for  a  few  minutes,  and  did  not  so  much  as  learn  his 
name." 

"  Well,  we  must  trust  to  our  wits.  I  do  not  fear.  Let's  seek 
the  barber,  and  trust,  like  Micawber,  for  "  something  to  turn  up  " 
•  for  our  relief.  Perhaps  it  will  be  better  if  we  separate.  I  will 
go  ahead  of  you  a  few  paces,  keeping  always  in  sight ;  and  as  I 
have  been  here  several  times  before,  and  have  a  pretty  good  ac- 
quaintance with  the  streets,  I  think  we  can  avoid  suspicion." 

The  two  proceeded,  as  agreed  on,  to  the  barbers,  from  whence, 
relieved  of  their  hirsute  appearance,  they  emerged  so  metamor- 
phosed as  to  defy  recognition. 

They  were  walking  leisurely  along  the  street,  scarcely  knowing 
whither  to  direct  their  steps,  when  Charley,  grasping  the  arm  of 
his  friend,  ejaculated,  "  there  be  is  1  I  am  sure  I  am  not  de- 
ceived." 

"  Who,  your  friend  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  let's  follow  him." 

The  two  turned  and  walked  after  the  gentleman,  until  they 
reached  his  business  house.  It  was  the  dinner  hour,  and  no  cus- 
tomers were  in.  They  entered,  and  approached  his  office,  where 
the  merchan^was  sitting  with  one  of  his  clerks. 

The  young*  man  rose  to  bid  them  enter.  As  he  encountered 
Irving,  he  started,  and  gazed  earnestly  upon  the  visitor. 

"  Irving  !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  is  that  you  ?  " 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  97 

The  soldier,  surprised  to  find  himself  recognized,  fixed  a  look 
of  searching  inquiry  on  the  stranger.  A  moment's  scrutiny  suf- 
ficed. 

"  Why,  Arthur,  how  yon  have  changed  since  last  we  met.  1  did 
not  expect  to  find  you  here." 

Introductions  followed,  to  which  ensued  a  long  conversation, 
wherein  the  individual  story  of  the  friends  were  rehearsed.  Every 
assistance  that  Charley  and  Irving  needed  was  afforded,  and  a  few 
hours  found  them  with  their  preparations  for  leaving  the  eity  en- 
entirely  perfected. 

•  Wholly  changed  in  personeJle,  and  provided  with  some  whisky 
to  treat  any  pickets  they  might  encounter,  and  a  few  trifling  arti- 
cles of  trade,  the  two  set  out.  late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  following 
day,  on  their  perilous  search  for  Morgan. 

They  eluded  the  first  line  of  pickets  by  crossing  fields,  thus  alto- 
gether avoiding  the  public  road.  As  night  was  overtaking  them, 
they  came,  unexpectedly,  on  the  outer  pickets.  Retreat  or  escape 
was  impossible.  They  were  discovered;  already  the  cry  of 
"  Halt !  "  rang  out  from  the  sentinel. 

"  We  must  trust  to  finesse  and  our  bottles,  Charley." 

"All  right,"  and  the  two  obeyed  the  summons,  and  with  a  very 
nonchalent  air  stood  waiting  the  approach  of  the  three  pickets 
that  advanced  to  meet  them. 

"  How  d'ye  do,  friend  ?  "  said  Irving,  blandly,  stepping  forward, 
and  extending  his  hand  to  the  one  in  front. 

The  Federal  was  an  Irishman,  and  quite-  pleased  with'Irving's 
cordial  manner,  returned  the  salutation  heartily. 

"An'  whar  is  yer  pass,  friend?"  asked  the  picket,  as  Charley 
explained  to  him  that  they  wished  to  go  beyond  the  lines  for  the 
purpose  of  making  a  little  money  out  of  the  secesh. 

"  ( )ii,  we  didn't  think  it  was  necessary  to  get  a  pass — loyal  men 
like  ourselves — who  are  just  going  out  a  few  miles  to  sell  some 
little  articles  by  way  of  turning  a  penny  or  two." 

"  We  felt  sure  we  should  meet  with  "friends  like  yourself,  and 
so  we  brought  along  a  little  of  the  needful,"  and  Irving  took  oilt 
his  bottle,  and  seated  himself  with  perfect  sang  froid  on  an  old 
log  by  the  way  side,  beckoning  to  the  Irishman  and  his  two  com- 
panions to  do  likewise. 

"  I  feel  pretty  tired.  Don't  you  Michael  ?  "  said  he,  addressing 
Charley,  who  by  this  time  had  produced  his  bottle  and  handed  it 
to  the  Irishman  on  his  left. 

"  Yaas,  an'  I  do,"  was  the  reply,  as  the. bottle  was  turned  up  to 
his  mouth,  and  then  passed  on.  •-  . ' 

•'  Any  rich  secesh  below  here!  "  asked  Irving  of  the  picket  on 
his  right.  "  Me  and  Mike  want  to  sell  out.  our  little  stock  as  soon 
as  we  can,  for  I  left  a  sick  wife  at  home,  and  you  know  it  won't  do 
to  leave  her  too  long,  times  like  these.  Have  you  a  family,  friend  I 
Here,  take  a  little  more  ;  vou  need  it ;  hard  work  standing  picket," 
7 

4 


93  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

and  he  passed  the  bottle  round.  "  Pretty  good,"  he  added,  as  he 
put.  it  to  his  mouth  for  a  second  drink. 

"  An'  it  is,  an'  sure,"  said  the  Irishman  next  him,  who  was  just 
ready  to  apply  Charley's  bottle  for  a  third  drink. 

"  Do  you  watch  all  night  ?  "  asked  Irving,  and  without  waiting 
for  a  reply,  he  turned  to  Charley  and. said,  "  come,  Mike,  we  can't 
get  on  much  to-night ;  let's  turn  in  with  our  friends  here."  As  he 
spoke  he  commenced  to  unstrap  his  budget,  and  make  prepara- 
tions for  the  proposed  stay.  "  Here,  boys,  you  must  take  a  little 
more.  Nothing  like  it  to  keep  up  the  spirits  these  long  nights," 
and  the  bottle  was  again  handed. 

"  We  don't  stand  here  all  night ;  we  gits  relieved  in  half  an 
hour,"  responded  a  little  red  headed  Irishman,  one  of  the  three 
who  had  taken  but  little  part  in  the  scene,  save  to  do  duty  at  the 
bottle.     "  We  goes  off  now,  d'rectly." 

"  Well,  then,  Mike,  we'll  go  on.  If  we  can't  have  good  com- 
pany here,  we  had  better  find  a  better  lodging-place.  Any  house 
near,  friend  1  Here,  take  this,  it  will  help  to  steady  your  nerves," 
and  he  handed  him  the  bottle.  "  May  be  you'll  go  along  and 
show  us  the  way  ?  " 

"  There  is  a  house  just  a  -little  ahead  to  the  right.  May  be 
you'll  get  rest  there.     We  must  go  back  to  camp." 

Irving  rebuckled  his  strap,  rose  to  his  feet,  swaggered  round  a 
few  minutes,  talking  all  the  time  about,  the  horrors  of  war  and  the 
trials  of  the  poor  soldier,  bade  the  three  friends  good-by,  express- 
ing a  hope  they  might  meet  again,  and  followed  by  Charley, 
walked  on,  whistling  Rory  O'Moore. 

"  Well  done !  "  said  Charley,  when  they  were  out  of  hearing  of 
the  pickets.  «  We  are  now  safe,  thank  God !  and  will  soon  be 
with  Morgan." 

"  Count  no  man  happy  until  he  is  dead,"  said  the  old  philoso- 
pher, and  we  cannot'  count  ourselves  safe  until  with  Morgan. 
However,  I  regard  the  greatest  clanger  past.  Most  of  the  citizens 
in  this  part  of  the  State  are  Southern,  and  should  we  cross  some 
Yankee  sympathizer,  we  can  very  readily  cajole  him.  But,  see, 
yonder  is  the  house.  Shall  we  turn  in  here  for  the  night,  of  drive 
on  a  few  miles  further  ?  " 

"  Turn  in,  I  decide.  We  are  both  weary  and  hungry.  Should 
we  go  on,  we  may  not  meet  with  another  house  iu  some  distance, 
and  without  blankets  as  we  are,  we  should  find  it  rather  disagree- 
able sleeping  out  in  the  dew  and  chill  night  air.  I  say  run  the 
risk — let's  apply  at  the  mansion  for  supper  and  lodging." 

"  Remember,  we  are  peddlers,  Irving,"  said  Charley,  as  the  two 
gained  the  front,  yard  gate.  "  And  do  not  forget  that  a  peddler's 
chief  characteristic  is  asking  high  prices,  and  selling  tor  nothing. 
1  have  no  doubt  but  these  people  will  be  glad  to  get  our  needles 
and  thread.  We  must  drive  a  pretty  good  bargain  with  them, 
that  they  may  believe  we  are  really  what  we  profess  to  be.    You 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  99 

must  do  the  trading.^ving.  I  do  not  know  the  price  of  a  single 
article  that  we  have  in  our  budgets." 

"  Oh,  I  can  do  that,  Charley.  I  sold  goods  for  three  years, 
when  I  was  a  chap,  and  I  well  remember  the  price  of  needles,  pins, 
tapes,  combs,  &c.  I'll  multiply  these  old  prices  by  six,  and  then 
I'll  be  sure  to  have  them  high  enough.  But,  if  we  find  these  peo- 
ple true  to  our  cause,  and  they  treat  us  pretty  kindly,  we  will  just 
make  a  lump  bargain  with  them,  and  say  no  more  about  it." 

"  This  would  do,  Irving,  if  we  were  entirely  beyond  Federal 
limits.  But  we  must  keep  some  things  to  preserve  appearances, 
should  we  fall  into  the  kands  of  the  blue  coats.  And  by  all 
means  we  must  hold  fast  to  our  bottles.  It  will  not  do  to  let 
them  slip." 

"  But  what  will  we  do  with  them  now,  Charley  ?  They  will 
make  us  suspicious,  if  they  are  seen." 

"Oh,  give  them  to  me.  I'll  secure  them,"  and  Charley  stepped 
aside  from  the  pathway  that  led  to  the  house,  and  threw  the  two 
remaining  bottles  into  a  clump  of  evergreens.  "  There,"  said  he, 
"  requiescat  in  pace  until  the  morning." 

The  two  approached  the  house,  reached  the  door  and  knocked 
for  admittance.  After  waiting  a  few  minutes,  a  servant  came  to 
the  door,  who  invited  them  to  walk  in. 

"Ask  your  mistress  if  two — shall  I  say  gentlemen  or  fellows?  " 
whispered  Irving  to  Charley. 

"  Peddlers,  of  course." 

The  negro  heard  the  question,  and  giggled  outright. 

"Ask  your  mistress  if  two  peddlers  can  stay  all  night." 

The  girl  went  in  to  her  mistress'  room,  and  soon  "returned, 
accompanied  by  the  master  of  the  house. 

"  Walk  fn,  walk  in,"  said  the  old  man,  after  he  bad  thoroughly 
surveyed  the  two  strangers,  by  the  dim  light  of  the  flickering  can- 
dle.   "  I  see  you  are  no  plaguy  Yankees.     Walk  in." 

After  conversing  with  the  old  gentleman  for  a  short  time,  the 
two  dared  to  inform  him  who  they  were.  Supper  was  immedi- 
ately ordered,  and  partaken  of  with  fine  zest  by.  the  hungry  tra- 
velers. 

The  next  morning  the  old  gentleman  gave  them  some  valuable 
directions  to  guide  them  on  their  joifrney.  He  would  receive  no 
compensation,  but  he  was  amply  rewarded  for  his  hospitality  in 
the  quantity  of  pins,  needles  and  threaa  left  with  his  grateful  wife. 


100  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

LEBANON,     TE^NB&SEE. 

Traveling  for  five  days  over  fields  and  through  lanes  and  by- 
roads, the  two  soldiers  came,  after  many  delays,  upon  Morgan's 
camp,  just  as  the  men  were  preparing  their  supper.  The  old 
woods  rang  with  cheers  and  applause  when  it  was  ascertained  who 
the  newly  arrived  visitors  were.  ( 

The  boys  gathered  around  Irving  to  welcome  him  back  again  ; 
and  as  they  shook  his  hand,  their  beaming  faces  and  kind  words 
fully  attested  the  high  estimate  in  which  he  was  held  by  his  com- 
rades. And  Charley,  who  was  known  to  not  a  few,  was  received 
with  the  warmest  expressions  of  friendship. 

"  How  do  you  do,"  Charley,"  and  our  young  hero  felt  both  hands 
clasped  in  kindly  gratulation,  and  recognized  the  familiar  voices 
of  his  two  old  friends,  John  and  Bob. 

"  We  thought  you  were  dead,  old  fellow,  picked  off  by  some  vile 
Yankee  rifle,"  said  one,  "  or  perhaps  had  fallen  alive  into  their 
clutches,  and  sent  to  Camp  Chase  for  the  improvement  of  your 
morals,"  said  another;  "or  had  taken  life-long  lodgings  in  some 
Nashville  prison,  where  we  should  never  be  able  to  visit  nor  even 
hear  how  you  are  faring,"  laughingly  remarked  a  third. 

"  You  are  right,  Brent ;  there's  just  where  I  have  been  accommo- 
dated. But,  I  am  happy  to  say,  not  for  a  life-time,  though  it 
looked  very  much  like  it  at  first." 

"  Tell  us  all  about  it,  Irving,  do — all  your  experience  with  the 
cut-throat  Yankees,"  exclaimed  a  dozen  voices. 

"  How  did  you  get  out,  and  how  have  you  made  your  way 
through  to  us  'I "  and  the  boys,  forgetting  their  supper,  crowded 
round  him  to  hear  his  story.  » 

He  told  them  all : '  How  he  had  been  captured  in  his  attempt  to 
get.  within  the  Federal  lines ;  of  his  being  accused  as  a  spy,  and 
without  trial  offered  the  alternative  of  the  oath  or  imprisonment ; 
how  be  had  chosen  the  latter,  but  had  been  made  to  repent  his 
choice  by  the  wretchedness  oY  his  condition  and  the  daily  insults 
he  received  ;  then  of  his  change  of  purpose,  taking  the  oath,  re- 
lease, and  subsequent  tramp  from  Nashville  to  the  camp. 

"Bravo,  bravo,  my  boy!  "  filled  the  air  as  the  hero  concluded 
his  narrative.     "  You  have  out-Yankied  them.      Bravo  !    bravo 
for  old  Kentucky  !  "  and  the  boys  threw  their  caps  up  in  the  air, 
and  huzzaed,  until  the  whole  camp  resounded  with  their  cheers. 

"Why,  how  you  have  changed,  Charley.    We  scarcely  knew 


♦  "  OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  101 

you,  old  friend,  ^'ou  look  pale  and  thin.  But.  never  mind,  you'll 
soon  rally  again.  Come  with  us,"  and  Lawrence,  taking  him  by 
the  arm,  led  him  away  to  his  mess,  where,  amid  the  aroma  of  the 
steaming  coffee  and  the  no  less  grateful  odor  of  the  smoking  fried 
ham,  they  too  related  in  turn  their  hairbreadth  escapes  since  last 
they  parted. 

Irving  reported  to  Colonel  Morgan  the  success  of  his  undertak- 
ing, and  was  informed  by  the  Colonel  that  he  should  set  out  on 
the'  second  day  following  on  an  expedition  to  visit  some  of  the 
Yankee  garrisons. 

"Hold  yourself  in  readiness,  Irving.  I  want  you  to  be  one  of 
the  number." 

"Certainly,  Colonel,"  was  the  reply  ;  "  nothing  would  give  me 
greater  pleasure  than  to  pay  off  a  small  portion  of  the  score  I 
have  against,  tiie  Feds." 

Charley,  who  had  no  idea  of  being  left^idle  and  inactive,  imme- 
diately began  preparation  for  joiuing  the  proposed  expedition.  He 
went,  out  that  evening  into  the  ueighborhood  of  the  encampment, 
and  through  the  assistance  of  his  two  friends,  John  and  Bob,  who 
wire  well  known  in  the  vicinity,  and  who  were  already  well  pro- 
vided for,  he  succeeded  in  procuring  from  a  friendly  fanner  a  good 
horse,  aud  Colonel  Morgan  furnished  him  with  saddle  and  bridle 
and  arms,  so  that  by  nightfall  he  was  pretty  well  equipped. 

The  expedition,  numbering  one  hundred  and  fifty  men,  headed 
by  their  gallant,  leader,  all  well  mounted  and  armed,  set  out  the 
following  morning  at  daylight.  They  traveled  rapidly  all  day,  and 
ate  in  the  evening  came  upon  Lebanon,  where  a  small  detachment 
of  a  Federal  regiment  was  stationed.  Their  capture  was  a  matter 
of  easy  achievement,  mere  sport  for  the  gallant  lads  who  knew  no 
fear  in  the  presence  of  the  foe.  The  prisoners  were  paroled,  their 
arms  distributed  among  the  captors,  and  the  stores  in  the  place 
secured.  Everything  went  "merry  as  a  marriage  bell."  The 
boys  congratulated  each  other  on  their  success,  and  only  regretted 
that  the  enemy  had  yielded  without  being  made  to  "  taste  gun- 
powder." Horses  were  fed,  stabled,  and  the  victors  retired  to 
rest  after  their  brillant  coup  de  main,  feeling  perfectly  secure  from 
all  danger. 

The  night  wore  on.  The  weary  men  slept  peacefully.  Just  as 
the  day  was  daw^tong,  the  alarm  rang  out,  "  The  enemy  is  upon 
us."  Men  started  hastily  from  their  beds  and  rushed  into  the 
streets.  Everything  was  wild  confusion.  The  order  was  given 
by  Colonel  Morgan  to  defend  themselves  and  escape  as  best  they 
could.  This,  under  the  suddenness  of  the  surprise,  was  all  that 
could  be  done.  Some  seized  their  guns  and  prepared  for  the  at- 
tack ;  others  ran  to  secure  their  horses. 

The  enemy,  headed  by  Lumont,,  drove  in  upon  them  in  over- 
whelming numbers.  Resistance  was  useless.  Order  could  not  be 
brought  out  of  the  sad  confusion  that  everywhere  reigned.    They 


V 


102  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

were  surprised  by  thrice  their  number,  and  surrounded  on  all  sides 
by  the  foe,  who  pressed  in  upon  them,  confident  of  an  easy  tri- 
umph. Seeing  the  hopelessness  of  an  attempt  at  defence,  the  or- 
der was  a  s.-cond  time  given  to  cut  their  way  through,  each  man 
to  depend  upon  himself  for  his  own  safety. 

Morgan  mounted  his  beautiful  mare,  aud  regardless  of  conse- 
quences, dashed  through  the  advancing  ranks.  It  was  a  miracle 
that  he  escaped.  His  noble  animal  was  shot  under  him,  and  it 
was  only  by  the  most  reckless  daring  and  courageous  self-posses- 
sion that  he  saved  his.  life.  Some  of  his  men  essaying  to  follow 
his  example  were  wounded,  others  were  killed.  Among  the  latter 
was  our  young  friend  Bob  Heed,  whx»,  in  attempting  to  escape 
from  three  Yankees,  two  of  whom  he  had  shot,  was  struck  by  a 
ball  in  the  heart,  and  fell  just  as  he  felt  himself  securely  beyond 
the  range  of  their  guns.  Most  of  those  who  had  succeeded  in 
mounting  escaped,  but  about  eighty  fell  into  the  hands  of  the 
enemy — among  them,  sad  to  say,  Charley  and  Irving.  These 
two  men  failing  to  receive  the  warning  in  time,  had  found  it  im- 
possible to  reach  their  horses,  and  had  to  yield  to  the  numbers 
who,  rushing  upon  them,  seized  them  and  forced  away  their  arms 
before  they  could  prepare  for  any  resistance.  The  prisoners  were 
assembled  in  a  large  unoccupied  building,  and  a  strong  guard 
placed  round  it. 

"  Ho,  for  Camp  Chase,"  said  one  of  the  victors,  as  they  closed 
the  door  upon  the  captives. 

"  Never,  for  me,"  said  Charley  to  Irving,  his  brow  darkening 
and  his  eye  flashing  with  the  thought.  "  Death,  but  not  Camp 
Chase." 

"  Amen,"  responded  Irving.  "  A  short  imprisonment  for  me,  or 
death  to  end  the  scene-." 

They  could  see  from  the  windows  of  the  house  in  which  they 
were  confined  their  dead  comrades  borne  along  the  streets. 

"  There  goes  poor  Bob  Reed — dead !  dead  !  "  exclaimed  Char- 
ley, starting  back  with  a  shudder  of  horror  from  the  window  at 
which  he  was  standing.  "  I  wonder  what  has  become  of  Law- 
rence and  Brent ;  perhapsthey  have  met  the  same  fate  with  Reed," 
and  Charley  heaved  a  bitter  sigh,  and  the  tears,  despite  his  efforts 
to  suppress  them,  rushed  to  his  eyeis. 

"  Would  I  were  in  poor  Bob's  place,"  he  added  after  a  few  mo- 
ments' silence.-  "  Misfortune  attends  me  on  every  side.  This 
is  my  third  imprisonment,  and  I  have  Seen  in  the  service  but  nine 
months.     Better  be  dead  than  thus  doomed." 

As  he  spoke  his  eye  rested  on  the  plain  gold  ring  that  encircled 
his  finger — Mary's  gift — and  dashing  the  unbidden  tears  away  he 
seated  himself  on  an  old  box  in  the  corner  of  the  room  and  cov- 
ered his  face  with  his  hands. 

"  We'll  outwit  these  infernal  Yankees  yet.  Camp  Chase  will 
never  have  the  honor  of  holding  Colonel  John  Morgan's  men,  rest 
assured  of  that." 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  103 

"  You  are  right,  Irving,"  interposed  Cal.  Morgan,  a  younger 
brother  of  the  Colonel.  "  It  will  be  but  rare  sport  for  my  brother 
to  rescue  us  from  these  scoundrels.  I  have  no  more  fear  of  Camp 
Chase  than  I  have  of  the  gallows." 

But  Charley  could  not  feel  assured  that  so  happy  a  fate  awaited 
them.  He  felt  he  was  doomed,  and  that  it  was  useless  to  strug- 
gle against  his  destiny.  Dark  thoughts  entered  and  took  pi < 
sion  of  his  soul.  He  could  see  no  light  before  him.  He  dwelt  on 
the  horrors  of  his  former  imprisonment,  on  the  degradation,  insult 
and  suffering  that  awaited  him. 

"  I  will  never  again  pass  Louisville  a  prisoner,"  he  laid  to  him- 
self, sadly.  "  The  cold  waves  of  the  Ohio  shall  roll  over  my 
body  first." 

*    The  next  day  active  arrangements  were  made  to  convey  the  men 
4  to  the  river,  in  order  that  they  might  be  transported  by  boat  to 
Cincinnati. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


PROPOSED    PLAN    FOR    ESCAPE. 


It  was  a  great  trial  to  these  noble  spirits  to  have  to  submit  to 
imprisonment,  aggravated  as  it  was  by  the  coarse  taunts  and  bru- 
tal jeers  of  the  unfeeling  guard,  who  appear  to  take  increased  de- 
light in  tormenting  their  unfortunate  victims,  simply  because  they 
were  Morgan's  men. 

The  position  of  these  proud  Kentu'ckians  was  one  of  the  deepest 
humiliation — one  that  each  man  of  them  had  vowed  never  to  oc- 
cupy. But  the  alarm  was  so  sudden,  the  surprise  so  unexpected 
and  complete,  that  it  was  impossible  to  make  any  successful  re- 
sistance. They  were  overpowered  and  robbed  of  their  arms 
almost  before  they  knew  the  enemy  were  in  the  town.  And,  to 
add  to  their  distress,  they  were  told  that  Colonel  Morgan  was 
killed  in  his  attempt  to  cut  his  way  out.  This  was  to  them  the 
saddest  feature  of  the  whole  matter.  -  Many  of  them  had  confi- 
dently expected  throughout  the  long  hours  of  the  weary  night, 
that  their  brave  leader  would  gather  together  a  force  and  return  to 
their  rescue. 


104  «  RAIDp  AND  ROMANCE 

They  felt  fully  assured  that  never  would  one  of  his  men  be  per- 
mitted to  enter  the  walls  of  any  Northern  prison,  if  it  were  in  the 
power  of  mortal  man  to  avert  ;t.  But  when  they  heard  that  Mor- 
gan was  dead,  this  hope  forsook  them,  and  they  saw  their  inevita- 
ble doom  was  protracted  imprisonment,  unless  they  could  extri- 
cate tht-mselves  from  their  captive  condition  by  their  own  effort.  ', 

It  was  proposed  to  bribe  the  guard,  but  there  were  so  many  dif- 
ficulties in  the  way  of  successful  escape,  even  if  beyond  the  prison 
walls,  as  the  enemy,  in  large  force,  entirely  surrounded  the  town, 
that  this  project  had(  to  be  abandoned.  Many  favored  it ;  'among 
these  were  Charley  and  young  Irving,  who  believed  there  would 
be  comparatively  little  risk  in  it. 

"Do  not  give  yourselves  any  uneasiness,  boys,"  said  young  Mor- 
gan, a  brother  of  the  Colonel,  who  had  listened  with  an  air  of  non- 
chalance to  the  animated  debate ;  "  my  brother  is  not  dead — there 
is  no  Yankee  bullet  that  can  kill  him.  Be  quiet,  and  let  things 
take  their  way.  We'll  be  attended  to  in  proper  tirwe.  My  life  as' 
the  forfeit,  if  we  ever  pass  the  gates  of  a  Yankee  prison." 

"  You  speak  very  confidently,  Cal,"  replied  young  Irving ;  "  but 
for  my  part,  I  do  not  feel  quite  so  well  assured.  I  know  what  is 
before  us.  I  have  recently  had  a  bit  of  experience  in  prison  life, 
and  I  am  perfectly  willing  to  dispense  with  the  tender  mercies  of 
the  Yankees  for  all  future  time.     I  vote  for  bribing  the  guard." 

"  We  have  only  a  hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  all  told,  Irving — 
not  two  dollars  apiece — and  it  is  folly  to  talk  of  bribing  the  guard 
with  that  meagre  sum.  Moreover,  he  would  not  dare  to  let  us  all 
go,  and  who  among  us  would  be  willing  to  remain  ?  And  even  if 
we  were  out,  the  great  probability  is  that  half  of  us  would  be 
caught  again.  I  think  we  had  better  remain  together,,  and*  when 
the  time  comes,  our  combined  force  can  strike  a  heavy  blow." 

"  Thou  reasonest  well,  Cal,  my  friend,  and  we  will  have  to  de- 
cide the  question  by  vote.  All  favoring  the  plan  of  bribing  the 
guard,  hold  up  the  right  hand." 

"Only  twenty.  The  majority  is  against  us,  Charley.  Like 
good  democrats,  we  will  yield  to  its  voice." 

Charley  assented,  but  it  was  in  sadness.  "  The  bitter  fruit  of 
taking  that  oath,"  he  murmured  to  himself,  and  turned  to  the  win- 
dow to  look  out.  The  house  opposite  had  been  appropriated  to  the 
slain.  It  was  through  that  faded  brown  door  that  he  had  seen  the 
dead  body  of  his  friend  borne. 

"  I  wish  I  was  in  poor  Bob's  place,"  he  said  again  to  himself, 
as  he  gazed  fixedly  at  the  old  frame  house.  Tears  rushed  to  his 
eyes,  but  quickly  he  dashed  them  away — he  would  not  be  seen 
Unnerved- — and  commenced  to  hum  the  air  of  "  AuldLang  Syne." 

It  was  a  most  unfortunate  selection.  It  brought  to  his  sad  heart 
cherished  and  touching  memories.  It  was  Mary's  favorite  air,  and 
many  an  hour  he  had  sat  beside  her  listening  to  the  sweet  music 
of  its  variations,  which  she  performed  with  exquisite  taste  and 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  105 

skill.  The  lovely  girl,  who  had  risked  so  much  for  him,  to  secure 
whose  happiness  he  felt  no  sacrifice  was  too  great — home,  with  all 
its  tender  associations — came  before  him,  and  in  spite  of  himself, 
the  big  tears  would  flow.  He  looked  at  the  delicate  gold  ring,  the 
pledge  of  love.  "I  will  live  for  her  sake,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  for 
her  the  idol  of  my  heart,  the  light,  the  star  of  my  life,"  and  he 
choked  down  his  emotion,  nerved  his  heart,  and  began  to  whistle 
in  a  lively  manner,  "  Cheer,  boys,  cheer." 

It  was  known  among  the  prisoners  that  they  were  to  leave  early 
the  following  morning  for  Nashville — whether  to  proceed  from 
there  by  boat  or  railroad,  they  could  not  learn. 

"  It  doesn't  matter,  boys,  how  they  start  us  on  our  way  to  Yan- 
keedom.  We'll  never  reach  there.  The  stars  may  fall,  or  the 
Yankee  nation  turn  respectable,  but  never  will  any  or  us  breaf^e 
the  air  of  their  infernal  Northern  slaughter  pens." 

"Hope  you  are  right,  Cai,"  ejaculated  all  present. 

"My  head  for  a  foot-ball,  if  I  have  not  spoken  truly." 

The  next  day  the  prisoners,  eighty  in  number,  were  sent,  to 
Nashville,  there  to  take  boat  for  Cincinnati,  the  rumor  having  ob- 
tained among  the  enemy  that  Colonel  Morgan  intended  to  release 
his  men  at  all  hazards,  if  sent  by  railroad. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


AN    EPISODE. 


The  operator  sat  in  his  office  silent  and  grum.  He  had  just 
completed  the  forwarding  of  a  despatch  from  Louisville  to  Nash- 
ville, relative  to  Morgan's  captured  men,  to  the  effect  that  they 
must  be  sent  immediately  to  the  former  city  by  rail.  The  reason 
assigned  was  that  Morgan  could  at  any  time  enter  Nashville,  and, 
with  the  assistance  he  would  there  obtain  from  rebel  sympathizers, 
could  force  the  prison  and  liberate  the  prisoners. 

"  Confound  Morgan  and  his  men  1"  said  the  operator  to  himself, 
biting  his  lips  in  a  rage.  "  I  wish  the  last  one  of  them  was  at  Old 
Nick,  this  very  minute.  They  are  always  doing  some  devilment 
to  make  trouble.  Who  knows  but  what  they  may  pounce  down 
on  me  some  of  these  days,  and  take  me  off  to  some  of  their  cursed 
prisons  ?     Confound  the  whole  batch  of  them,  I  say.     I  wish  I 


106  EAIDS  AND  EOMANCE 

had  Morgan  here  ;  I'd  soon  put  an  end  to  his  villany — the  cursed 
rebel!" 

Just  at  this  juncture  of  the  soliloquy,  a  horseman  alighted  in 
front  of  the  door,  and  with  whip  in  hand,  walked  carelessly  in. 
The  surly  operator  scarcely  raised  his  head  to  speak  to  the  in- 
truder, as  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  his  butternut  suit,  all  bespatter- 
ed with  mud,  and  the  old  slouched  hat  with  rim  partly  torn  off. 
But  the  visitor  was  not  to  be  repulsed  by  this  very  uncivil  lecep- 
tion.  Stepping  forward  towards  a  vacant  chair,  which  stood  be- 
side the  window  in  the  further  side  of  the  room,  he  seated  himself, 
and  asked  for  the  news. 

"  No  news,"  was  the  curt  reply. 

There  was  a  morning  Journal  on  the  desk.  The  stranger  reach- 
ed 0it  his  hand,  and,  with  the  most  perfect  sangfroid,  took  the 
paper,  and,  opening  it,  commenced  to  read. 

"John  Morgan  at  work  again,"  he  said,  as  he  glanced  down  the 
first  column ;  "  great  pity  that  that  nian  can't  be  caught — he  plays 
the  wild  with  everything." 

At  the  mention  of  Morgan's  name,  the  operator,  as  if  suddenly 
seized  by  his  Satanic  majesty  himself,  sprang  from  his  chair  dou- 
bled up  his  fist,  and  then  with  a  sudden  jerk  withdrawing  it  again, 
as  if  practising  the  pugilistic  art  on  some  hapless  victim,  and  then 
thrusting  his  arm  out  at  full  length,  while  his  eyes  darted  venge- 
ful fire,  exclaimed  : 

"  Yes  the  scoundrel, — villain — I  wish  I  had  him  here.  I'd  blow 
his  brains  out,  this  very  moment.  I'd  show  him.  Just  let  him 
come  in  reach  of.  me,  and  he'll  soon  get  a  ball  put  through  his 
cursed  body.  No  more  pranks  from  him,  the  mighty  John  Mor- 
gan, I  tell  you  !"  And  the  infuriated  man  went  through  all  the  - 
gestures  of  shooting  his  hated  foe. 

"  You  would'nt  kill  him,  would  you  V  asked  the  stranger  quiet- 
etly  looking  up  from  his  paper,  and  lifting  the  torn  brim  of  his  old 
white  hat. 

"  Kill  him  ?  aye,  and  I  would,  sooner  than  I'd  shoot  a  mad  dog. 
1  just  dare  him  at  any  time,  to  cross  that  door,  and  if  he  is'nt  a 
dead  men  in  less  than  five  minutes,  there's  no  truth  in  me." 

The  stranger  rose,  took  off  his  hat,  and  stood  before  the  blood- 
thirsty operator,  and  with  a  quiet  mien  and  voice  gentle  as  a  maid- 
en's, said: 

"  I  am  .John  Morgan,  sir  ;  execute  your  threat.  Here  is  a  pis- 
tol— you  are  entirely  welcome  to  use  it !" 

As  he  spoke,  he  fixed  his  large,  piercing  eyes  steadfastly  on  the 
operator.  Every  feature  of  that  noble  face  bespoke  daring  and 
defiance. 

"  Here  is  a  pistol,  use  it !" 

"  Oh  !  thank  you ;  I — I  didn't  know— I  had'nt  any  idea — that 
you  were — Colonel  Morgan,  sir — indeed,  I  didn't — beg  pardon,  sir ; 
so  much  annoyed  to-day — every  thing  gone  topsy  turvey.    Man 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  107 

gets  so  fretted— excuse  me — really  didn't  mean  what  I  said — 
wouldn't  have  any  man's  blood  on  my  conscience — oh,  no — remem- 
her  the  commandment — thousand  pardons,  sir;  hope  you'll  for- 
give ;"  and  the  frightened  man  bowed  himself  quite  back  to  the 
wall,  where  he  stood  pale  and  trembling. 

"You  have  my  pardon,  sir,"  replied  Morgan  in  a  firm  gentle- 
manly tone.  "Another  time  I  advise  you  to  be  less  boastful  of 
your  courage  and  veracity.  I  have  but  little  time  to  stay.  Scat 
yourself  and  send  the  messages  that  I  shall  dictate  to  Louisville. 
Make  no  mistake;  if  you  do,  your  life  is  the  forfeit." 

The  bewildered  man,  but  too  glad  to  escape  so  easily,  obeyed 
the  order  of  the  Colonel  with  alacrity. 

"  1  understand  this  operation,  sir ;  don't  you  attempt  to  give  auy 
information  but  what  I  instruct  you  to  do." 

Had  the  trembling  man  felt  disposed  to  disobey  the  warning,  the 
close  proximity  to  his  bead  of  that  formidable  postol  would  have 
forever  lulled  all  such  desire. 

"  Now,"  said  Colonel  Morgan,  "  show  me  all  the  dispatches  that 
have  passed  through  this  office  in  the  last  twenty-four  hours." 

The  man  sprang  from  his  seat,  and  with  a  most  obsequious  air 
obeyed  the  bidding. 

"  That  will  do,  sir,"  said  Morgan,  bowing  politely,  and  bidding 
the'  pusillanimous  wretch  "  good  morning."  .Reaching  his  horse, 
he  mounted,  and  rode  away,  leaving  the  confused  operaior  dumb 
with  wonder  and  surprise  at  the  strange  and- starring  oecffrreinoe. 

It  was  a  beautiful  Sabbath  morning  in  May,  1862.  Lovely  as 
a  poet's  dream  rested  the  fiower-inantled  earth  beneath  the  soft 
warm  sunlight.  The  cars  laden  with  passengers,  were  wending 
th«lr  way  at  full  speed  from  Louisville  to  Bowling  Green.  There 
was  to  be  a  "  Union  mass  meeting"  in  Nashville  the  following  day, 
and  the  zealots  of  Kentucky,  determining  that  it  should  have  at 
least  the  appearance  of  power,  and  its  proceedings  be  noised  abroad 
through  the  land,  had  turned  out  in  numbers  to  attend  it.  There 
were  on  board  politicians,  speculators,  Federal  officers,  curiosity- 
seekers,  and  hangers-on,  beside  a  few  private  travelers. 

Prentice,  of  the  "Journal,"  had  fully  purposed  to  be  present, 
but  "  owing,"  as  one  of  his  friends  said  to  another,  "  to  the  fud- 
dled condition  of  his  brain,  he  was  unable  to  make  the  time,"  and 
most  unfortunately  for  the  incidents  of  the  day,  was  left,  behind. 

The  whistle  had  sounded  and  the  train  was  slowly  nearing  the 
depot  at  Cave  City,  when  a  dozen  armed  horsemen  suddenly  ap- 
pearing in  front  of  the  locomotive,  called  out,  "Halt,'*  accompa- 
nying the  command  with  a  wave  of  the  hand,  a  signal  to  the  engi- 
neer to  stop. 

This  functionary  appearing  but  little  inclined  to  ohej  the  order 
— his  movements  indicating  a  determination  to  proceed — the  com- 
mand was  repeated,  and  at  the  same  moment  about  thirty  other 
horsemen,  armed  to  the  teeth,  dashed  in  view,  and  dozens  of  bul- 


108  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

lets  shredded  the  air,  whizzling  alarmingly  about  the  ears  of  the 
frantic  passengers.  . 

"  Morgan!  Morgan  !"  was  uttered  by  a  dozen  of  voices.  "  Mor- 
gan !  Morgan  !"  was  caught  up  and  re-echoed  by  all.  Then  fol- 
lowed a  scene  of  the  wildest  confusion,  which  was  at  the  same 
time  both  ludicrous  and  serious. 

The  engineer  seeing  the  folly  of  attempting  to  proceed,  quickly 
brought  the  cars  to  a  stand  still. 

Some  of  the  horsemen  immediately  sprung  from  their  saddles  to 
obstruct  the  track  with  rails,  lest  he  should  reverse  the  cars,  and 
endeavor  to  return  to  Elizabethtown.  Others  rode  up  to  the  side 
of  the  cars,  and,  with  pistols  presented,  demanded  a  full  surrender 
of  all  soldiers  and  freight  belonging  to  the  Government. 

Wild  was  the  tumult  among  the  loyal  ladies,  profound  the  panic 
that  had  seized  officers,  pdlitieians  and  speculators.  Each  was  en- 
deavoring as  best  he  could  to  secure  his  own  safety  and  interest.- 
Private  purses  rapidly  passed  from  the  hands  of  loyal  men  to  those 
of  disloyal  ladies  in  order  to  preserve  them  from  the  hands  of  the 
rebels. 

Amid  the  fright  and  confusion  Colonel  Morgan  entered  the  la- 
dies' car.  As  he  stood  for  a  moment  every  eye  was  fixed  upon 
him. 

"  Be  quiet,  ladies,"  said  he,  with  a  pleasant  smile,  as  their  cries 
of  terror  fell  upon  his  ear.  "  Be  quiet,  none  of  you  shall  be  hurt, 
I  only  want  the  blue-coated  gentlemen." 

Instantly  there  was  profound  silence.  His  words  acted  like  a 
spell  in  calming  the  tumult. 

He  approached  one  of  the  "  blue-coated  gentry,"  whose  wife  sat 
beside  him. 

•  "  Oh,  spare  my  husband,  Colonel  Morgan  !  Don't  take  him  from 
me,"  screamed  out  the  frightened  wife;  "  For  God's  sake  don't 
take  him.  Have  mercy— mercy  on  me,  Colonel,  and  spare  him  to 
me.  I  appeal  to  you  as  a  gentlemen — to  your  clemency,  your 
generosity,  your  kindness — for  my  sake,  for  God's  sake,  for  the 
sake  of  mercy,* don't  take  him  away." 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  take  your  husband  from  you,  madam,'?  he  re- 
plied, amused  at  the  woman's  importunity.  "  Take  him  yourself, 
and  teach  him  better  behavior  than  to  come  down  here  to  kill 
Southern  people.    This  is  all  I  ask.    Will  you.  promise  me  this  !" 

The  grateful  woman,  in  the  joy  of  her  heart,  grasped  the  knees 
of  her  noble  benefactor  and  thanked  him  in  the  most  passionate 
strains. 

A  low-browed  Dutchman,  who  had  been  a  music  teacher  in  Lex- 
ington, Ky.,  but  who  now  enjoyed  the  more  impressive  soubriquet 
of  Major  Helveti,  was  taken  by  some  of  the  Louisville  boys  from 
the  cars,  mounted  on  a  shabby  trotting  mule,  and  spirited  away 
under  an  escort  in  the  direction  of  Dixie. 

"  I  have  thirty  thousand  dollars  in  that  safe,"  said  the  cotton 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  109 

• 
agent  of  one  of  tbe  large  firms  in  Louisville,  to  Col.  Morgan,  who 
"was  quietly   examining   Uncle  Sam's  treasures.     "  It  is  private 
funds,  Colonel.     I  hope  it  will  not  be  appKopriated.    Here  is  my 
receipt  for  its  deposit  from  the  agent,  Colonel." 

"Give  yourself  no  uneasiness,  sir,"  was  the  quiet  response, 
while  Colonel  Morgan  continued  his  operations.  "  My  men  are  not 
thieves.  Be  assured  that  not  one  cent  of  private  property  shall 
be  touched." 

After  making  such  disposition  of  Government  funds  and  stores 
as  he  deemed  proper,  Colonel  Morgan  surrendered  the  cars  to  the 
conductor  under  strict  orders  to  return  to  Louisville  without  at- 
tempting to  proceed  to  Bowling  Green. 

Colonel  Morgan  with  his  force,  immediately  dashed  down  the 
road  to  the  depot  below,  to  intercept  the  upward  train,  on  board  of 
which  were  his  men,  proceeding  to  Louisville.  Unfortunately  for 
his  plan,  a  courier,  unobserved  by  him,  had  left  the  scene  of  action 
during  the  itielee,  and  reached  the  nearest  depot  below,  and  tele- 
graphed  to  the  conductor,  by  all  means,. to  return  to  Nashville;  as 
Morgan  and  his  men  were  awaiting  the  train  to  seize  it. 

Sad  were  the  hearts  of  the  prisoners,  as  the  cars  reversed  their 
movement,  and  steamed  back  to  Nashville.     They  understood  it  in 
a  moment,  and  felt  that  all   hope  of  escape  by  liberation  at  the 
hands  of  their  noble  chief  was  at   an  end.     Their  disappointment 
and  chagrin  were  unspeakable.     There  was  no  hope  left  them  now, 
save  in  their  own  skill  and  management.     But  they  did  not  despair. 
They  were   determined  on  one  thinjr — and  that  was,  come  life  or 
death,  they  would  never  enter   a  Northern  dungeon.     How  they 
succeeded  in  averjjng  this  detested  fate  remains  to  be  seen. 


CHAPTER    XXV. 


HOW  THE  PROPOSED  PLAN  SUCCEEDED. 

I 

"  Played  out— played  out,  boys !  "  said  Charley,  despondingly. 
"  No  hope  of  rescue,  now — prison  or  death — we  must  choose  be- 
tween the  two." 

"  There,  Charley,  croaking  again,"  said  Cal.  Morgan.  "  Why, 
my  boy,  this  is  only  a  pleasing  variety.  What  is  life  without  di- 
versity 1     Come,  cheer  up  !  be  a  hero — with  a  heart  for  any  fate. 


1 10  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE     - 

If  Colonel  Morgan  doesn't  rescue  us,  we  will  rescue  ourselves. — 
That's  all." 

"You  are  very  hopeful,  to  be  sure,  Morgan.  You  have  bad  no 
experience  in  prison.  Wait  until  you  have  groaned  beneath  their 
iron  rule  for  a  few  months.  Then  we  shall  see  if  you  regard  it  a 
pleasing  diversity." 

"  But  there's  no  use  despairing,  Charley,  even  in  the  face  of  the 
most  unpromising  circumstances.  Be  patient.  My  word  on  it, 
Morgan  will  out-wit  these  Yankees  yet.  They  will  not  dare  to 
keep  us  here  in  Nashville.  Why,  they  wouldn't  even  risk  us  in 
'  Louisville.  Don't  you  know  that  these  cowardly  wretches  believe 
that  Morgan  can  do  just  what  he  pleases  1  I'll  wager  they  are 
trembling  now  for  fear  he  will  rush  upon  them  and  spirit  us  away. 
They  will  never  feel  safe  until  we  are  beyond  the  Ohio  river."  - 

"But  what  does  all  this  argue,  Morgan?  Simply,  that  they 
won't  imprison  .-us  here,  and  what's  the  difference  V 

"  It  is  this,  they  will  have  to  ship  us  to  Camp  Chase.  And  you 
know  it's  along  wav  from  hereto  Cincinnati,  and  there  will  be 
many  chances  for  us  to  escape.  I,  for  one,  will  never  see  the  in- 
side of  one  of  their  dens,  take  my  word  for  that.  Indeed,  I  have 
a  great  mind  to  dodge  them  right  here  in  Nashville.  But,  then,  it 
would  be  so  much  trouble  to  get  out  of  their  lines — and  moreover, 
1  shouldn't  like  to  leave  any  .of  my  friends  behind  mo." 

"  They  will  rake  us  by  boat  now,  I  suppose,"  said  Charley,  his 
voice  assuming  a  rather  more  cheerful  tone. 

"Oh,  yes  !  that  will  be  their  plan.  They  will  not  try  railroad 
shipment  again,  and  they  won't  dare  to  keep  us  here — so,  you  see, 
there  is  no  other  alternative."  f 

The  prisoners  were  marched  from  the  depot,  and  huddled  to- 
gether in  the  close  damp  jail  for  the  night,  without  supper  and 
without  beds.  * 

The  next  day  they  were  'taken  on  board  a  small  boat  lying  at 
the  wharf,  to  be  sent  to  Clarksyille,  where  they  were  to  be  trans- 
ferred to  a  large  vessel,  and  forwarded  immediately  to  Cincinnati. 

It  was  night — a  soft  May  night.  The  young  moon,  from  'mid 
her  throng  of  starry  worshippers,  beamed  tenderly  down  on  the 
sleeping  earth,  which  lay  reposing  in  her  soft,  warm  rays  like  a 
glad  babe  on  its  mother's  loving  bos'om.  The  radiant  stars  looked 
down  with  their  spiritual  eyes  from  out  their  far-off  borne  in  the 
blue  vault  above.  And  gentle  breezes,  wooed  into  life  by  the 
moon's  soft  kiss,  sported  carressingly  among  the  fragrance-breath- 
ing flowers. 

It  was  the  hour  of  midnight.  Over  the  still  bosom  of  the  Cum- 
berland the  cliffs,  with  their  wooden  brows,  tnrew  a  deep,  dark 
shadow,  here  and  there  lighted  up  by  the  sparkling  moonbeams  as 
they  stole  through  the  young  and  tender  foliage  of  the  overhang- 
ing forests,  and  fell  in  streams  of  silver  sheen  on  the  rippling 
waters. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  Ill 

No  sound  was  heard,  save  the  low,  irregular  splashing  of  the 
water  as  the  wheel  of  the  little  boat  drove  the  tiny  craft  along 
over  the  river's  still,  smooth  bosom. 

"  Now  is  our  time,"  said  Morgan,  quickly,  yet  stealthily,  ap- 
proaching the  spot  where  young  Irving  and  Charley  were  standing 
on  the  guard,  looking  over  into  the  river  below. 

"  Pass  the  signal ;  let  each  man  but  do  his  part,  and  we  are  free. 
You  and  Charley  will  attend  to  disarming  the  drunken  guard. — 
You,  Irving,  pass  the  word." 

The  signal  was  given.  Quietly,  yet  with  lightning  speed,  the 
prisoners  hastened  to  the  work  assigned  them.  The  officers  and 
boat  hands  were  seized,  and  before  they  could  recover  from  their 
consternation,  they  were  bound  and  put  under  guard.  The  senti- 
nels, overcome  by  too  deep  libations  from  rebel  bottles,  lay  sense- 
less on  the  guards.  To  relieve  them  of  their  arms,  was  but  the 
work  of  a  moment. 

It  was  a  daring  undertaking — one  that  required  great  tact  and 
adroitness.  But  the  plan  had  been  well  arranged,  and  its  denoue- 
ment was  eminently  successful.  The  captain  plead  to  be  released, 
offering  to  convey  them  to  any  point  on  the  river,  if  they  would 
only  allow  him  to  keep  his  boat. 

"  On  these  conditions,'"  said  young  Morgan,  "  you  must  surren- 
der to  us  all  the  arms  you  have;  give  us  rations  for  two ,day.s  ;  all 
the  money  you  have  in  your  safe ;  then  land  us  above  here  on  the 
east  rank  of  the  river,  and  we  will  spare  your  life  and  release  your 
boat.  But,,  as  you  value  your^head,  captain,  don't  you  attempt  to 
trick  us  in  any  way.  And  another  thing,  you  must  go  on  to 
Clarksville,  and- remain  there  until  we  shall  have  time  to  get  be- 
yond danger.     Will  you  promise  me  this?" 

The  captain,  but  too  glad  to  save,  his  head  on  any  terms,  readily 
assented  to  the  proposition. 

"  Swear  him,"  said  Irving  ;  "  swear  him,  Morgan.  Excuse  me, 
sir,"  he  added,  turning  to  thi  captain  ;  "but  you  Yankees  have 
such  unreliable  memories.  The  penalty  for  perjury  under  our 
oath  Is  death  at  first  sight.  You'll  remember  1  Here  Charley, 
get  out  your  bible,  and  let  the  captain  take  the  oath  on  that." 

The  little  pocket  bible  was  produced,  and  the  captain  duly 
sworn. 

"Now,  go  with  us,  boss,  and  give  directions  to  your  engineer  to 
wheel  about  and  take  us  back  a  few  miles ;  after  this,  sir,  we  will 
attend  to  the  pantry  and  money  box.  Boys,  keep  a  sharp  look  out 
over  your  prisoners,  and  if  these  drunken  soldiers  dare  to  move, 
just  throw  them  overboard." 

The  necessary  directions  were,  given  to  the  engineer.  The  safe 
was  then  visited,  and  relieved  of  its  treasures;  after  which,  Mor- 
gan calling  to  his  aid  a  number  of  the  boys,  stormed  the  pantry, 
and  emptied  it  of  its  edibles. 

"  Come,  cook,"flsaid  he  to  the  mulatto  boy,  who  had  stood  beside 


112  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

him  eyeing  the  movement  with  a  look  of  wonder,  mingled  with 
admiration;  "  come,  be  quick,  get  to  work  immediately,  and  fry 
these  steaks  and  this  ham,  and  make  up  all  that  flour  and  meal 
into  bread.  Here,  boys,  you  that  know  how,  fall  to  work  and  grind 
this  coffee,  slice  the  light  bread  and  butter  it,  and  roll  up  sand- 
wiches for  yourselves,  here's  a  nice  cold  ham.  Each  one  take  as 
much  sugar  and  tea  as  he  wants." 

'/  Come  steward,  bring  paper  to  these  gentlemen." 

"None  on  board,  sir,  I  believe,"  and  the  darkey  trembled  with 
fright  at  having  to  disobey  orders. 

"  Well,  well,  never  mind.  Get  your  towels  and  table  cloths  ; 
no  matter  what,  so  it  will  do  to  wrap  up  victuals  in." 

The  steward  darted  like  lightening,  and  in  a  moment  was  hack 
with  the  necessary  articles. 

There  was  a  general  jubilee  on  board  the  boat.  The  boys 
laughed,  and  danced,  and  sung.  They  had  not  had  such  a  merry 
time  since  the  fated  night  at  Lebanon.  Morgan,  Charley  and 
Irving  took  the  management  of  affairs  upon  themselves,  and  su- 
perintended all  the  preparations.  Every  thing  was  carried  for- 
ward with  the  greatest  dispatch. 

The  pilot  was  commanded  to  land  them  at  the  first  safe  point 
on  the  eastern  bank  of  the  river.  Just  as  day  was  dawning  over 
the  earth,  the  boat  was  rounded  to,  and  the  boys,  enforcing  remem- 
brance of  their  instructions  on  the  captain  and  crew,  equipped 
themselves  with  the  few  arms  they  had  obtained,  secured  their  edi- 
bles, and  with  one  long,  loud  ringing  shout,  sprang  from  the  boat, 
and  dashed  into  the  woods.' 

"  Didn't  I  tell  you,  Charley,  that  we  would  out-general  these 
Yankees  V  said  young  Morgan  to  our  hero,  as  he  stepped  up  to 
his  side,  and  slapped  him  on  the  shoulder.  "  But  you  wouldn't 
believe  me.     Did  [  not  speak  truly  Vt 

"  You  did.  Your  plan  has  succeeded  well,  and  you  deserve  all 
praise.  We  are  once  more  free,  thank  God.  Never  let  us  again 
fall  into  the  enemy's  hands." 

"Ah,  we  will  never  be  caught  napping  again,  Charley.  Eternal 
vigilance  is  the  price  of  liberty  these  days.  How  would  it  do, 
Irving,  for  us  all  to  vow  that  -we  will  never  be  taken  prisoners 
again  l     What  say  you,  Charley  V 

"Amen,  amen  J"  responded  the  two  young  men. 

"  Come  to  a  halt,  Morgan,"  said  Charley,  "  and  let  us  all  swear 
that  the  Yankees  shall  never  again  claim  us  as  captives." 

The  column  was  halted,  the  proposition  submitted  to  the  men, 
which  was  received  with  loud  and  protracted  cheers  throughout 
the  whole  line.  . 

The  oath  was  administered,  Irving  holding  up  the  small  pocket 
bible,  upon  which  each  man  was  commanded  to  look,  while  he  re- 
peated' the  form  of  words  after  young  Morgan. 

"  What  do  you  say  to  breakfast  now/boys,  and  a  division  of  our 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  113 

» 

money.  Come  forward,  treasurer,  and  disburse  your  funds  pro 
capita." 

A  young  man  stepped  forward  from  the  ranks,  and  drew  forth 
from  his  pocket  a  roll  of  notes. 

"  Two  hundred  and  forty  dollars — just  three  dollars  a  piece. — 
Come  forward,  boys,  and  each  one  receive  his  quota." 

A  council  of  war  was  tiien  called  to  decide  whether  the  com- 
pany should  divide  into  squads,  and  thus  endeavor  to  make  their 
way  to  Colonel  Morgan,  or  should,  en  masse,   proceed  to  join  him. 

The  subject  was  gravely  discussed,  pro  and  con. 

"Most  of  us  know  every  mile  of  this  country,"  said  Irving,  the 
chief  speaker.  "  We  have  traveled  over  it  often.  It  is  inhabited 
only  by  friends.  We  have  provisions  enough  to  last  us  twenty- 
four  hours,  and  if  at  the  expiration  of  that  time  we  shall  find  it 
expedient,  in  order  to  procure  food,  to  divide  out,  we  can  do  so." 

"  But  perhaps  we  shall  encounter  the  Feds,"  suggested  the  trea- 
surer, "  and  we  have  not  arms  enough  to  defend  ourselves." 

"That  is  not  at  all  probable,  Carter.  There  are  no  Yankees  in 
this  section.  You  know  that  we  have  kept  them  too  badly  scared 
to  venture  out  in  small  squads,  and  if  they  have  thrown  a  large 
force  any  where  near,  we  will  soon  learn  it.  Let  us  send  out  an 
advance,  whose  duty  it  will  be  to  apprise  us  of  any  danger  ahead." 

"  Boys,  all  in  favor  of  moving  on  together,  call  out  aye,"  said 
he,  leaving  it  to  the  decision  of  a  vote. 

"  Aye,"  rang  out  from  every  man. 

About  an  hour  was  spent  in  eating  breakfast,  which  was  greatly 
enlivened  by  the  recital  of  many  a  laughable  incident  that  oc- 
curred white  taking  possession  of  the  boat.  The  old  woods  were 
resonant  with  their  mirth  and  hilarity,  as  they  ate  of  their  fried 
ham  and  steaks,  with  the  buttered  light  bread  and  fresh  biscuits. 
It  was  far  superior  fare  to  any  they  had  enjoyed  in  a  long  while, 
and  their  heightened  appetite  did  ample  justice  to  its  acknowledged 
merits. 

"Well,  boys,"  said  Irving,  rising,  and  depositing  the  remainder 
of  his  roll  in  his  pocket,  "if  we  are  through  with  breakfast,  we'll 
take  up  our  line  of  march.  Our  course  is  southeast.  The  Cum- 
berland may  give  us  some  trouble,  but  we  will  find  friends  who 
will  assist  us,  and  we  shall  soon  make  our  way  to  Morgan.  Three 
cheers  for  our  Colonel,  boys!"  and  the  speaker  flourished  his  old 
white  hat  vigorously  around  his  head.  The  example  was  followed 
by  every  man,  and  loud  and  lusty  cheers  went  up  from  the  moving 
column,  which  were  echoed  and  re-echoed  among  the  leafy  re- 
cesses of  the  forest  until  they  gradually  died  away  in  the  distance. 


114  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 


FINDI.NG      MORGAN 


The  party  traveled  a 'day  and  a  half  before  they  could  obtain 
any  reliable  intelligence  of  Colonel  Morgan's"  whereabouts.  They 
were  then  informed  that  he  had  a  few  days  before  passed  within 
twenty  miles  of  Carthage,  going  north.  They  could  not  learn 
whether  he  was  accompanied  by  his  whole  force  or  not.  The  ru- 
mors were  conflicting.  One  story  said  that  he  had  certainly  gone 
to  Gallatin ;  another  that  he  had  undoubtedly  proceeded  to  Ken- 
tucky. 

"  If  we  cannot  overtake  Colonel  Morgan,"  said  Irving,  after 
listening  to  the  various  contradictory  rumors  that  met  them  on 
every  side,  "  we  must  go  where  he  can  find  us.  Our  present  busi- 
ness is  to  get  beyond  the  reach  of  the  Federals.  We  can  then 
wait  until  we  can  ascertain  where  he  is.  This  done,  our  troubles 
are  at  an  end." 

They  marched  on  for  two  successive  days.  No  certain  intelli- 
gence of  Morgan  could  be  gained.  Hearing  of  no  enemy  in  that 
portion  of  the  State,  they  decided  to  halt  and  establish  a  camp. 
A  fine  position  was  selected  for  this  purpose  in  a  skirt  of  woods, 
bounded  by  a  beautiful  stream.  They  purchased  such  necessary 
articles  as  their  limited  means  would  allow.  The  people  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  encampment  generously  assisted  them  with 
provisions  and  blankets.  After  remaining  a  few  days  here,  and 
ascertaining  nothing  of  Colonel  Morgan,  it  was  proposed  to  pro- 
cure some  horses  and  start  a  party  in  search  of  him.  The  proposi- 
tion was  favorably  received  by  the  whole  encampment,  and  Irving, 
Charley,  young  Curd  and  Johnson  were  selected  to  go,  Morgan  re 
ma.ining  behind  to  look  after  the  carnp.  He  had  already  become 
quite  popular  in  the  neighborhood,  partly  because  he  was  a  brother 
of  the  favorite  hero  of  the  West,  but  quite  as  much  on  account  of 
his  agreeable  manner  and  daring  spirit.  The  project  was  made 
known  to  a  few  of  the  farmers,  who  readily  furnished  horses,  and 
everything  necessary  for  their  equipment.  The  outfit  was  com- 
plete, and  the  four  set  forward  on  their  search,  under  the  direction 
they  had  received.  After  a  day's  travel  northward,  they  obtained 
such  intelligence  of  Colonel  Morgan's  recent  movements  as  they 
could  credit.     Two  days  more,  and  they  had  reached  his  camp. 

Information  was  given  him  of  all  that  had  occurred.  He  had 
heard,  while  passing  through  the  country  from  Cave  City  to  his 
headquarters,  via  Kno^yille,  that  his  men  had  escaped,    lmmedi- 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  115 

ately  he  turned  about  and  sent  up  into  the  region  of  Clarksville, 
for  the  purpose  of  rendering  them  assistance — but  he  was  too  late, 
and  leirned  on  reaching  there  that  they  had  set  out  on  foot  to 
overtake  him.  He  dispatched  Irving,  Curd  and  others  back  to  the 
camp  for  their  comrades,  with  instructions  for  as  many  as  could 
to  join  him  immediately. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 


THE       DARK      SHADOW 


The  morning  after  the  men  reached  Colonel  Morgan's  encamp- 
ment, Charley  was  very  leisurely  sauntering  around  objectless, 
further  than  to  indulge  his  general  habit  of  activity,  when  in  pass- 
ing near  a  clump  of  undergrowth  on  the  outskirts  of  the  camp,  his 
attention  was  arrested  by  the  earnest  voice  of  some  oue  who 
seemed  to  be  reading.  As  he  neared  the  spot  from  whence  the 
sound  proceeded,  he  heard  the  speaker  pronounce  the  name  of 
Mary  Lawrence.  Suddenly  he  paused,  as  if  transfixed  to  the  spot. 
The  blood  mounted  to  his  temples— his  heart  beat  audibly — his 
frame  grew  rigid  under  the  power  of  his  strong  emotion.  A  mo- 
ment mute,  and  the  name  of  Arthur  Morton  reached  his  ear,  and 
then  the  words  "  Federal  officer,"  and  "undivided  attention." 

As  one  who  is  suddenly  seized  by  some  demoniac  passion,  he 
exclaimed,  "  Oh,  my  God  ! "  and  sprang  forward.  Then,  as  if 
impelled  by  the  magic  of  an  invisible  power,  he  paused  and  strain- 
ed his  ears  to  listen.  It  was  the  voice  of  young  Brent,  who  was 
evidently  reading  a  letter  from  some  friend  in  Louisville. 

As  Charley  stood  breathless — trembling  in  every  nerve,  his. 
hands  clenched  in  the  agony  of  dreadful  apprehension,  his  face, 
which  for  a  moment  before  was  crimson,  now  livid  as  death,  his 
bloodless  lips  apart  as  one  who  listens  with  his  soul  as  well  as  ears 
— these  maddening  words  were  plainly  heard  :  "  Rumor  says 
they  are  to  be  married.  I  do  not  myself  know,  for  I  have  not  seen 
Mary  in  many  weeks.'- 

He  could  bear  no  more.  Frenzied,  he  turned  and  rushed  away, 
walking  as  if  pursued  by  a  demon. 

"  Where  on  earth  are  you  going,  at  that  break-neck  speed,  Char- 


116  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

ley  1 "  hallooed  youtig  Lawrence  to  him,  as  with  great  strides  he 
pushed  hy  the  spot  where  a  group  had  gathered  .around  Captain 
Hawkins  to  hear  him  read  a  Louisville  Journal,  which  had  found 
its  way  into  the  camp. 

Charley  paused  and  looked  wildly  around. 

"  Come  here,  Charley,"  exclaimed  a  dozen  voices.  "Come  and 
hear,"  added  young  Lawrence,  "  what  old  Prentice  says  about  our 
capture  at  Lebanon.  He  gloats  over  the  idea  of  our  surprise  and 
imprisonment.  Little  does  the  old  wretch  think  we  are  here  free 
as  air,  laughing  over  his  fiendishness." 

Charley,  as  if  "incapable  of  exercising  his  own  will,  obeyed  the 
summons,  but  it  was  as  one  who  acts  devoid  of  thought  and  ob- 
ject- 
He  took  his  place  amid  the  group,  listless  ;  as  one  in  a  strange, 
wild  dream,  he  stood,  his  eyes  gazing  out  into  vacuity — bis  face 
wearing  that  peculiarly  sad  expression  which  results  from  sudden 
grief;  while  his  heart ! — ah,  how  can  we  describe  its  tumultuous 
heavings. 

"  Look,  boys,  Charley  lives  the  whole  scene  over  again  !  "  ex- 
claimed young  Morgan.  "  He  is  even  now  in  thought  and  feeling 
the  inmate  of  a  Yankee  prison.  Indeed,  Charley,  my  friend,  you 
do  not  regard  yourself  safe  from  the  clutches  of  the  villians,  do 
you  1 "  and  Morgan  slapped  him  on  the  shoulder  pleasantly. 
"  Come,  this  won't  do.  You  are  as  free  as  the  bird  of  the  wild- 
wood — as  safe,  Charley,  as  though  all  the  Yankees  had  been  fer- 
ried over  Styx  by  the  good  Charon,  who  of  late  must  have  been 
kept  very  busy  at  his  work." 

"  No,  no,  Cal,  I  have  no  fear  of  the  Yankees.  I  have  seen  them 
too  often,  and  am  too  familiar  with  their  face,"  responded  Charley, 
endeavoring  to  assume  an  air  of  cheerfulness. 

"  Then  why  so  melancholic  ?  Disappointed  that  you  did  not 
get  a  letter  from  home,  eh  1 " 

"  Yes,  partly  that ;  and  partly  indisposition." 

"  Oh,  you  mustn't  get  sick,  Charley,"  interposed  young  Law- 
rence.    "  We  are  going  to  make  Louisville  a  visit  soon." 

Just  at  this  point  in  the  conversation,  Captain  Hawkins,  who 
had  been  silently  scanning  the  paper,  read  aloud  one  of  Prentice's 
witticisms,  which  caused  them  all  to  break  out  in  a  fit  of  the  most 
uproarious  laughter. 

Charley  essayed  to  join  them;  but  what  a  mockery  to  laugh, 
when  the  heart  is  breaking.  His  effort  was  fruitless — only  a  wan, 
ghostly  smile  was  the  result. 

Attracted  by  the  shouting,  Brent  and  his  cousin,  young  Arnold, 
to  whom  he  had  been  reading  his  letter,  came  rushing  to  the  group, 
Brent  holding  the  yet  open  letter  in  his  hand. 

As  Charley  looked  towards  the  young  men,  who  were  advancing 
at  full  speed,  crying  out,  "  What's  the  joke?  what's  the  joke? 
Do  let  us  share  it  1 "  he  perceived  the  unfolded  sheet.    His  first 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  117 

impulse  was  to  meet  Brent  and  ask  him  to  permit  him  to  read  his 
letter.  But  this  would  necessarily  involve  the  betrayal  of  his 
secret;  and,  restraining  himself,  he  simply  said  to  young  Brent,  in 
passing,  "  One  of  Prentice's  lucky  hits,  that's  all,"  and  walked  on 
in  the  direction  of  the  woodland  which  flanked  the  encampment. 

Seeking  its  cool  recesses,  he  seated  himself  upon  an  old  log, 
around  which  the  mushrooms  had  thickly  grown,  and  burying  his 
face  in  his  Hands,  gave  himself  up  to  the  tortures  of  the  demon 
jealousy.  And  who  that  has  felt  his  wasting  fires,  consuming,  as 
it  were,  the  very  life  of  the  soul,  but  can  exclaim,  "  Death,  deai.h, 
give  me  death  ! "  So  felt  Charley.  The  world  to  him  was  one 
wide-spread  void,  over  which  rested  the  blackness  of  darkness. 
Despair,  deep,  fearful,  had  unfolded  her  sombrous  wings  over  his 
heart,  shutting  out  all  hope — all  joy.  Gladly  would  he  have  lost 
his  weary  weight  of  anguish  in  that  long  sleep  where  dreams  do 
never  come.  He  prayed  for  the  fierce  conflict,  that  he  might  yield 
up  that  life  which  in  a  few  short  hours  had  become  to  him  only  a 
meaningless  existence. 

There  are  moments  in  life  when  the  soul,  bowed  down  be- 
neath its  weight  of  disappointment  and  despondence,  fearfully 
strives  to  discern  one  gleam  of  hope,  to  find  one  promise  of 
good,  in  all  the  vast  universe  spread  out  so  inimitably  around 
it.  It  turns  to  present,  past  and  future,  but,  ah,  how  vainly ; 
and  the  recoil  upon  itself  is  but  the  mightie-  for  the  effort 
made. 

In  such  moments,  did  the  will  but  control  the  pulsations  of  the 
heart,  what  an  array  of  self-murderers  would  stand  in  the  last  day 
before  the  final  tribunal ! 

After  remaining  in  this  frenzied  frame  of  mind,  more  intolerable 
than  that  which  prompted  the  beautiful  priestess  of  Venus  to  throw 
herself  into  the  deep,  dark  sea,  our  hero  arose  determined  to  seek 
out  young  Brent,  obtain  the  letter,  and  if  it  confirmed  his  fearful 
apprehensions,  to  procure  a  furlough  and  leave  immediately  for 
Kentucky,  and  if  his  troth  had  been  betrayed,  to  wipe  out  the 
wrong  in  the  blood  of  the  hated  rival. 

He  sought  the  camp.  But,  as  he  bent  his  steps  thitherward,  his 
resolution  began  to  falter.  He  could  not  make  known  the  secret 
of  his  love  to  another  ;  and  how  could  the  letter  be  procured  with- 
out an  explanation  that  must  necessarily  lead  to  disclosure  on 
this  point?  He  racked  his  brain  for  a  plan,  but  the  knot  could 
not  be  untied— he  had  not  determination  to  cut  it  asunder.  So, 
avoiding  young  Brent,  whom  he  met  mid-way  the  enclosure,  he 
turned  aside  with  agitated  look,  and  passed  on  with  rapid  pace 
towards  his  own  tent. 

The  evening  and  night  were  passed  amid  the  tortures  of  jeal- 
ousy ana  despair.  Sleep  visited  not  the  restless,  tossing  frame, 
and  the  aching  brain,  racked  with  fearful  thought,  throbbed  wild- 
ly, while  the  blood-shot  eyes  looked  out  into  the  gloom  of  the 


118  -RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

rayless  tent  strainingly,  as  if  the  sinking  soul  sought  to  catch 
some  ray  of  hope  from  the  outer  world.  It  was  the  small  hours 
of  the  morning  before  that  exhaustion  consequent  upon  such  in- 
tense and  continued  excitement  of  mind  induced  a  fitful,  feverish 
slumber,  and  this  unsatisfying  rest  was  haunted  by  fearful  dreams, 
wherein  spectres  of  frightful  form  and  fiercest  mien  unrelentingly 
pursued  him  through  all.  the  winding  way,  from  which  he  saw  no 
way  of  escape.  He  awoke  to  a  realization  of  his  wretchedness, 
and,  springing  to  his  feet, .rushed  frantically  into  the  open  air,  and* 
paced  back  and  forth  before  his  tent,  goaded  on  by  the  increasing 
intensity  of  his  emotion. 

The  morning  came,  but  morning  brought  no  relief.  Pale  and 
dejected  he  pursued  bis  walk. 

"  Why,  Charley,  you  look  sick  to-clay !  "  exclaimed  his  mess- 
mates,, as  he  seated  himself  to  attempt  a  breakfast.  He  made  no 
reply,  but,  sipping  his  coffee  listlessly,  and  scarcely  partaking  of 
the  bread  and  fried  ham  before  him,  sat  silently  brooding  over  his 
grief. 

"  Why,  Charley,  my  friend,  what  is  the  matter  with  you  1 "  re- 
marked young  Lawrence,  with  manifest  astonishment,  as  returning 
from  guard  he  seated  himself  at  the  mess-table.  "  You  look  as  if 
the  Furies  bad  been  tormenting  you.  Are  you  suffering  from  the 
scorpion  whip  of  conscience  for  not  going  to  church  yesterday  ?  " 

"  I  slept  but  badly  last  night,  and  this  morning  my  head  aches 
violently.  Altogether,  I  am  not  well,"  replied  our  hero,  endeavor- 
ing to  rally  himself,  so  as  to  avoid  renewed  inquiry  and  remark, 
but  the  effort  was  futile — the  smile  too  painfully  sad. 

"  Oh,  indeed,  you  must  rally.  It  will  not  do  to  get  sick  now. 
Rumor  says  we  go  into  Kentucky  in  a  few  days.  Come,  let's  go 
and  see  some  pretty  girls  to-day  ;  that  is,  if  we  can  get  yermission. 
A  sweet  face  is  always  a  sovereign  catholicon  for  the  blues.  Come, 
what  say  you?  I  saw  several  interesting  demoiselles  yesterday  at 
the  old  country  church,  and  two  of  them  live  near  here.  Hughes, 
there,  fell  in  love  with  one,  and  Brent  with  the  other." 

"  Not  in'  love  at  all,  Charley.  Lawrence  is  exaggerating.  We 
admired  the  young  ladies  ;  they  are  quite  beautiful,  I  assure  you, 
but  for  me,  I  must  wed  a  Kentucky  girl,  or  die  a  Benedict." 

"  You  are  right,  Hughes ;  I  say  so,  too.  A  Kentucky  girl  for 
me.  They  are  the  fairest  and  best  of  all  earth's  daughters,  and 
one  of  them  for  me  or  none,"  exclaimed  Brent,  accompanying  the 
remark  with  a  very  enthusiastic  gesticulation,  which  upset  the  cup 
of  hot  coffee  on  his  kee,  and  immediately  endangered  the  breakfast 
table,  which  was  a  camp-stool,  and  notwithstanding  it  boasted  of 
four  legs  instead  of  three,  they  were  so  unsteady  as  to  jeopardize  its 
uprightness  under  a  sudden  smart  blow. 

The  boys  roared  with  laughter  at  poor  Brent's  plight,  any  thing 
•enviable,  as  the  hot  coffee  was  by  no  means  a  pleasant  douche. 
Charley  joined  in  the  merriment,  for  a  moment  forgetting  his  woe, 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  119 

but  it  was  like  the  fitful  gleam  of  sunlight  bursting  through    the 
slightly  riven  cloud. 

"Irving,"  said  Charley  to  his  friend,  as  soon  as  he  could  meet 
him  after  breakfast,  "  I  wish  you  to  take  a  walk  with  me,  1  have 
something  to  tell  you." 

"  I  hope  you  are  not  in  trouble,  Charley,  though  one  to  see  you 
would  imagine  you  had  again  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  Yankees, 
you  look  so  grief-stricken.  I  will  walk  with  you  in  a  few  minutes, 
just  as  soon  as  I  can  deliver  this  note  to  Major  Duke.  Wait  here," 
and  Irving  passed  rapidly  on,  and  in.  a  very  short  time  returned  to 
rejoin  Charley.  The  two  walked  towards  the  dense  woodland 
which  flanked  the  rear  of  the  encampment.  Seated  on  the  old  log, 
around  which  the  mushrooms  had  gathered,  with  the  sweet  music 
of  spring  birds  gushing  out  from  amid  the  dense  overhanging  foli- 
age, Charley  unbosomed  his  grief  to  his  friend. 

"  I  trust  you,  Irving,  because  I  feel  I  can  rely  on  your  sympathy 
nndjincsse.  I  must  obtain  that  letter  from  Brent,  at  all  hazard. 
Would  you  undertake  to  procure  it  for  me,  pledging  me  to  keep 
my  secret  most  iiducially  ?  " 

"  1  think  so.  Trust  me,  I  will  not  betray  you.  If  possible,  I 
will  secure  the  letter  this  evening.  Join  me  about  four  o'clock, 
and  we  will  together  find  Brent,  and  if  I  succeed  in  my  purpose, 
you  can  either  read  it,  or  hear  it  read." 

The  two  parted.  Charley  to  attend  to  his  daily  duties,  and  find, 
as  best  he  might,  relief  from  his  goading  grief;  while  Irving,  who 
had  been  intrusted  with  the  secret  of  the  expedition  so  soon  to  be 
undertaken,  was  busily  engaged  in  such  preparations  as  were  ne- 
cessary for  the  purpose  of  carrying  out  the  commands  of  the 
morning. 

Punctually,  at  the  designated  hour,  Charley  sought  Irving.  He 
found  him  earnestly  engaged  in  a  conversation  with  Hawkins,  one 
of  the  command  upon  whom  Colonel  Morgan  greatly  relied  in  all 
matters  that  required  energy  and  tact. 

Pausing  beneath  the  shade  of  a  tree,  against  which  he  leaned 
with  the  air.  of  one  aweary,  Charley  awaited  his  friend.  A  few 
minutes,  and  he  was  by  his  side,  and  the  two  set  out  to  overtake 
Brent.  Their  search  was  for  some  time  unrewarded.  At  length, 
he  was  seen  with  Lawrence  and  Hughes,  emerging  from  the  lane 
which  led  from  the  encampment  into  the  main  road. 

"  We  are  just  from  seeing  the  young  ladies  with  whom  these 
gallants  fell  in  love  yesterday,"  said  Lawrence  to  Charley,  as  the 
two  met,  "and  I  do  wish  you  could  have  been  there  to  have  wit- 
nessed the  gaucherie  of  these  noble  Kentuckians.  It  would  have 
cured  you  of  your  blues  eternally.  It  was  serio-cpmic,  I  assure 
you." 

"  No  such  thing,  boys,  Lawrence  is  exaggerating  the  whole  af- 
fair. We  conducted  ourselves  right  nobly,  like  gentlemen  to  the 
manor  born.     Didn't  we,  Hughes  1 " 


120  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

"  Undoubtedly.  Lawrence  embarrassed  us  by  telling  the  ladies 
we  had  fallen  most  deeply  in  love  with  them  at  first  sight,  and 
would  not  wait  longer  than  to-day  to  make  a  call,  when  really,  as 
you  know,  Charley,  we  went  at  his  most  earnest  persuasion.  Didn't 
Brent  and  I  declare  this  morning  that  none  but  a  daughter  of  Ken- 
tucky should  capture  us  1 " 

"  Oh,  that  vow,  like  woman's,  '  was  traced  in  sand,'  and  Char- 
ley, you  and  Irving  would  so  decide,  could  you  but  have  seen  the 
earnest,  loving  looks,  and  heard  the  soft,  tender  words  which  were 
inflicted  upon  these  two  beautiful  Tennessee  damsels,  by  these 
amorous  swains." 

"  Come,  Brent,"  said  Irving,  taking  him  by  the  arm,  and  lead- 
ing bim  off,  "come  with  me.  You  must  make  confession.  I  chance 
to  know,  gentlemen,  something  of  this  gallant  knight's  lady  love," 
said  Irving,  looking  back  over  his  shoulder,  and  addressing  the 
trio,  now  heartily  laughing  at  something  said  by  Lawrence. 

"  Your  company,  boys,  if  you  please,"  and  Charley  left  Hughes 
and  Lawrence,  and  hastened  to  follow  Irving  and  Brent,  who  were 
seeking  a  rude  seat  which  the  boys  had  constructed  beneath  a 
large  oak  tree,  and  to  which  they  had  given  the  name  of  "  My 
La;Jy's  Bower." 

"  Is  she  your  sweetheart  1 "  were  the  words  that  met  Charley, 
as  he  found  himself  beside  Irving.  It  was  an  inquiry  of  surprise 
from  Brent. 

"  Oh,  no,"  replied  the  young  man  ;  "  not  exactly  a  sweetheart, 
but  a  young  lady  in  whom,  from  my  first  acquaintance,  I  have  felt 
a  deep  interest.  I  knew  her  in  Lexington,  and  she  is  the  sweet- 
heart of  one  of  my  particular  friends." 

M  Is  Morton,  of  Louisville,  a  friend  of  yours,  Irving?  Do  you 
know  he  is  now  in  the  Federal  army  1  He  and  Miss  Lawrence  are 
to  be  married  soon." 

"  Married  to  young  Morton,  Brent !  That  cannot  be.  She  is, 
undoubtedly,  engaged  to  a  young  friend  of  mine.  There  must  be 
some  mistake.  Where  did  you  get  your  information  ?  Surely,  it 
can  be  nothing  more  than  rumor." 

During  this  conversation,  Charley's  face  was  flushed  almost^  to 
crimson.    His  pulse  throbbed  violently. 

"  Oh,  no  ;  it  is  not  mere  rumor.  A  letter  just  received  from  my 
sister  in  Louisville,  says  the  marriage  is  certainly  to  take  place." 

Charley  clutched  young  Irving's  arm  convulsively. 

"  I  should  like  to  see  the  statement,  Brent.  As  you  may  well 
conceive,  I  feel  a  deep  interest  for  this  friend  of  mine,  who  I  know 
has  acted  honorably  and  sincerely  throughout.  Would  there  be 
any  impropriety  in  my  reading  here  in  the  presence  of  our 
friend,  Charley,  as  much  of  the  letter  as  is  pertinent  to  the  sub- 
ject 1 " 

"  None  in  the  world.  I  will  step  to  the  tent  and  get  the  letter. 
You  and  Charley  remain  here." 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  121 

Charley  had  scarcely  time  to  request  his  friend  to  read  the  par- 
agraph carefully  and  a  second  time,  before  Brent  returned  and 
handed  him  the  letter,  pointing  out  the  fearful  passage.  Irving 
took  it,  read  it  slowly  to  himself,  and,  shaking  his  head  rather 
ominously,  began  to  read  aloud  : 

"  Oh,  I  had  almost  neglected  to  mention,"  the  young  girl  wrote 
to  her  brother,  "  the  strangest  item  of  news,  and  one  that  creates 
the  greatest  sensation  among  our  young  friends.  It.  is  said,  and 
generally  believed,  that  Mary  Lawrence  and  Fred.  Morton  are  to 
be  married  very  soon.  Lizzie  Hutton  told  me  yesterday  there  was 
no  doubt  of  it.  And  you  know  Mary  and  Lizzie  are  old  friends. 
Yet  I  scarely  know  how  to  credit  the  statement,  I  have  so  often 
heard  Mary  declare  she  would  not  marry  a  Union  man,  if  her  life 
depended  upon  it.  And  Fred.  Morton  is  now  a  Federal  officer,* 
dressed  in  full  uniform.  I  met  him  on  the  street  this  morning. 
We  passed  without  speaking.  You  know  I  have  no  admiration 
for  blue  coats,  and  so  I  dropped  my  veil  as  I  approached  him.  I 
do  not  think  he  recognized  me.  I  have  not  seen  Mary  myself  for 
weeks.  I  have  been  out  at  sister  Sue's  for  a  long  time,  and  have 
not,  indeed,  seen  any  of  my  friends.  I  shall  go  round  this  evening, 
and  if  there  is  any  truth  in  the  report,  Mary  will  surely  tell  me.  I 
cannot  believe  it,  unless  she  informs  me  of  it  herself,  even  if  rumor 
does  say  it's  a  certainty." 

Irving  folded  the  letter  and  returned  it  to  Brent,  remarking,  "  I 
do  not  understand  this;  surely  there  must  be  an  error  somewhere." 

Charley  rose  and  walked  away. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

IS     SHE     faithless! 

Before  a  large  mirror,  which  reached  from  ceiling  to  floor, 
stood  Mary  Lawrence,  while  her  maid  fastened  the  last  white 
rose-bud"  amid  the  rich  auburn  curls. 

A  perfect  picture  of  loveliness  was  she  as  she  stood  there,  array- 
ed in  that  soft  white  silk  muslin,  threaded  with  silver,  fitting  so 
recherche  her  exquisitely  moulded  figure,  while  the  ejegant  point 
lace  berthe,  with  its  sprigs  d'argent,  the  late  gift  of  the  fond  mo- 
ther, graced  so  charmingly  the  full  drooping  shoulders,  and  fell  in 


122  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

gauzy  softness  over  the  rounded  arms,  which  were  encircled  by  a 
pair  of  bracelets, — carbuncles  set  with  pearls.  A  sash  of  white, 
spotted  with  silver,  to  correspond  with  dress  and  berthe,  was  fas- 
tened round  the  delicate  waist  by  a  simple  noeud  to  the  left.  A 
pair  of  white  kid  gloves,  perfectly  fitting  the  small  plump  hand, 
and  a  costly  pearl  fan  completed  the  toilette.  A  few  half-blown 
rose-buds  looked  out  from  the  rich  luxuriance  of  the  lustrous  curls. 
The  last  bud  was  secured  by  the  hand  of  the  admiring  waiting  maid, 
who  stood  motionless  gazing  on  .  the  angelic  vision  before  her. 
Mary  took  a  survey  of  hertelf.  The  blood  rushed  to  the  roots  of 
the  soft,  dark  hair.  She  threw  herself  on  the  sofa,  and  buried  her 
face  in  her  hands. 

"Oh,  indeed,  Miss  Mary,  you'll  mash  your  dress  and  everything 
else  all  to  pieces,"  ejaculated  the  maid,  with  a  took  of  horror.  "  Do 
get  up,  and  let  me  straighten  it  for  you." 

The  young  girl  heeded  not  the  request,  but  sat  still  as  death,  her 
head  bowed  in  her  hands. 

The  door-bell  rang.     Mary  sprang  to  her  feet. 

"  Go,  Maria,  see  who  it  is,"  she  said,  nervously,  to  the  girl,  who 
stood  gazing  upon  her  with  astonishment. 

"  It  is  Captain  Morton,  I'm  sure,  Miss  Mary.  See,  it  is  nine 
o'clock.    You  know  he  was  to  be  for  you  at  that  hour." 

"  Go,  Maria,"  and  she  waved  the  servant  to  the  door,  who,  with 
a  feeling  of  curious  wonder  at  her  young  mistress's  strange  man- 
ner, descended  the  hall  sWSrWay,  and  opening  the  front  door,  ush- 
ered the  Federal  officer  into  the  parlor. 

With  rapid  step  Mary  paced  the  floor  for  a  few  moments,  her 
agitation  constantly  increasing.  Then,  leaning  her  elbow  on  the 
dressing-stand,  she  toyed  with  the  exquisite  boquet  which  stood 
in  the  vase  before  her,  and  which  Captain  Morton  had  sent  with 
compliments  but  a  few  hours  before. 

Maria  returned,  and  announced  Captain  Morten. 

Murmuring  some  indistinct  words  to  herself,  while  the  color 
deepened  in  her  cheek,  Mary  seized  the  fan  from  the  stand,  cast  a 
hasty  glance  into  the  mirror,  and  beckoning  to  Maria,  who  stood 
holding  her  nubia,  to  follow, her,  and  tremblingly  sought  her  mo- 
ther's room. 

Bending  over  the  couch  of  the  pale  invalid,  she  imprinted  an  af- 
fectionate kiss  on  the  wan  cheek. 

"  You  look  worried  to-night,  my  daughter.  What  is  the  matter 
with  you  1 "  asked  the  anxious  parent,  in  a  soft,  tender  tone. 
"  Your  face  is  flushed  and  feverish." 

"  Oh,  nothing,  mother,"  replied  the  young  girl.  "  Only  excite- 
ment." And  stooping  over  the  low  couch,  she  kissed  her  mother 
a  second  time,  and  passed  to  the  parlor. 

"  God  shield  my  child  !"  murmured  the  mother,  earnestly,  as 
the  form  of  her  only,  her  darling  daughter,  disappeared  through 
the  door.     Then  clasping  her  hands,  the  mother  offered  up  for  her 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  123 

child's  safety  such  a  prayer  as  only  the  heart  of  a  mother  could 
indite. 

With  a  sweet,  affable  smile,  Mary  hade  the  young  Captain  good 
eveuing,  which  was  returned  by  him  with  a  most  gracious  air. 
He  was  charmed  to  see  her  looking  so  beautiful,  and  he  stood  gaz- 
ing upon  her  with  an  expression  of  fond  delight. 

He  observed  she  did  not  wear  the  flowers  he  had  sent  her. 
For  a  minute  he  felt  chagrined,  but  in  a  moment  the  thought  oc- 
curred to  him,  she  regards  them  too  highly  to  waste  them  on  this 
evening.  She  keeps  them  in  her  room,  that  she  may  enjoy  them.- 
His  rising  fears  were  subdued,  his  self-conceit  highly  flattered. 

"  You  are  appearing  most  charmingly  to-night,  Miss  Mary. — 
Your  color  is  unusually  beautiful.  Nature's  own  cosmetic.  I  am 
sure  that  you  will  be  the  cynosure  of  all  eyes,  and  I  the  envied  of 
all  the  beaux.  The  party  is  to  be  one  of  the  largest  ones  we  have 
had  in  the  city  since  the  war  began  ;  indeed,  I  doubt  whether  we 
have  ever  had  anything  that  will  excel  it.  The  most  costly  and 
extensive  preparations  have  been  made,  and  all  the  elite  are  in- 
vited. It  is  rather  strange,  is  it  not,  that  one  who  is  generally 
known  as  a  Southern  man,  should  have  invited  so  many  of  us 
Unipn  officers  ?  Almost  every  one  I  have  seen  is  expected  to 
attend." 

"  Indeed.  I  had  scarcely  supposed  this  would  be  so.  But  then, 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  H.  love  popularity.  They  would  sacrifice  a  great- 
deal  to  secure  it.  And  they  have  succeeded  well.  Their  names 
are  on  the  lips  of  both  parties.  Every  body  speaks  approvingly 
of  them,  as  generous,  affahle,  polite.     And  yet,  I  doubt — ' 

The  young  girl  paused,  and  taking  the  nubia  from  the  servant, 
threw  it  around  her  shoulders. 

"  Doubt  what,  Miss  Mary  /  " 

"I  will  not  finish  the  sentence.  I  fear  I  might,  perchance,  do. 
souse  one  injustice." 

"  Shall  we  go  I"  and  the  gallant  Captain,  with  all  the  air  of  one 
who  has  a  position  and  feels  it,  offered  his  arm  to  escort  the  trem- 
bling girl  to  the  carriage,  which  stood  at  the  door  awaiting  them. 

It  was  a  splendid  scene.  The  gorgeously  furnished  rooms  were 
brilliantly  lighted  and  thronged  with  the  beauty  and  elegance  of 
the  city.  Bright  eyes  flashed,  and  diamonds  gleamed,  and  smile 
answered  smile,  and  greeting  and  congratulations  were  everywhere 
given  and  returned  throughout  that  gay  multitude,  where  each 
heart  seemed  to  have  forgotten  forever  aM  sorrow,  where  each  face 
was  radiant  with  smiles,  and  every  tongue  was  voluble  with  utter- 
ances of  joy  and  gladness. 

Near  the  door  of  the  conservatory,  where  rich,  rare  flower? 
breathed  out  fragrant  perfumes,  and  where  a  hundred  lights  threw 
a  flood  of  dazzling  splendor  over  these  mute  but  eloquent  repre- 
sentatives of  every  clime,  stood  Mary  Lawrence,  leaning  on  the 
arm  of  young  Morton.     He  was  speaking  in  a  low,  but  earnest 


124  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

tone,  and  his  attitude  and  manner  betrayed  the  depth  of  his  feel- 
ing. With  half  averted  face,  now.  flushed  to  crimson,  and  eyes 
bent,  to  the  ground,  she  listened  to  his  fervent  words.  Her  bosom 
heaved  with  deep  emotion,  her  hand  trembled  as  it  clasped  the  fan 
which  she  vainly  endeavored  to  use  to  cool  her  burning  cheeks. 
She  felt  that  the  eyes  of  all  who  passed  were  fastened  upon  her, 
and  this  served  to  increase  her  embarrassment. 

"  What  can  be  the  matter  with  Mary  Lawrence  to-night?"  asked 
Miss  Whitmore  of  Lieut.  Dickinson  as  the  two  stood  in  a  position 
in  the  parlor  that  commanded  a  full  view  of  the  conservatory 
door.  She  appears  so  excited.  I  have  never  seen  her  half  so  gay 
as  she  seems  this  evening,  nor  yet  half  so  beautiful,  Is  not  she  a 
perfect  picture  of  loveliness  as  she  stands  yonder  beside  that  large 
orange  tree  ?  She  looks  a  fairy  'mid  the  flowers.  Indeed,  no  idea 
that  I  have  ever  formed  of  the  ancient  goddesses  could  at  all 
equal  my  realization  of  beauty  in  that  form  and  face.  I  do  not 
wonder  Capt.  Morton  worships  her.  Look  how  earnestly  he  bends 
to  catch  her  slightest  word,  and  how  admiringly  he  gazes  upon 
her.     His  soul  is  wrapt  in  devotion  at  the  shrine  of  her  charms." 

"  Busy-mouthed  rumor  says  they  are  engaged  to  be  married  in 
September  next,"  replied  the  Lieutenant.  "  I  know  not  whether 
the  statement  be  true.  I  have  heard  it  from  various  sources,  and, 
I  opine  no  one  who  has  observed  his  devotion  to  her  to-night  will 
for  a  moment  doubt  it.  You  regard  the  engagement  as  being  a 
matter  of  certainty,  do  you  not,  Miss  Lu  1"  said  he,  turning  to  ad- 
dress Charley's  sister,  who,  but  a  few  minutes  before,  in  company 
with  Miss  Brent  and  two  young  gentlemen,  had  taken  a  position 
near  Miss  Whitmore  and  Lieut.  Dickinson,  and  who,  interested  in 
the  officer's  remarks,  had  turned  to  give  him  attention. 

"  Mr.  Shirley  and  I  were  but  a  few  minutes  ago  discussing  that 
question,"  she  replied,  assumipg  as  much  calmness  as  she  oould 
command.     "  He  took  the  affirmative.     I  differed  in  opinion." 

"  It  is  certainly  so,  Miss  Lu  !"  exclaimed  young  Shirley.  "  Fred 
is  one  of  my  friends.     I  cannot  be  mistaken." 

"  No  one  doubts  it  now,"  added  Mr.  Grayson.  "  The  evidences 
are  conclusive." 

"It  has  been  believed  for  weeks,"  interposed  Miss  Brent. —  ■ 
"  Three  weeks  since  the  rumor  was  so  rife  I  felt  justified  in  writing 
the  report  to  my  brother,  who  is  with  Col.  Morgan,  and  since  then 
I  have  had  such  frequent  intimations  of  it  that  I  have  learned  to 
regard  it  as  a  fixed  fact." 

"  He  has  scarcely  left  her  side  during  the  evening,"  interposed 
Grayson.  "  I  have  observed  several  gentlemen  endeavor  to  win 
her  from  him.  I  myself  thought  to  do  so;  but  after  using  all 
the  strategy  that  I  coul  master,  I  had  at  last  to  acknowledge 
myself  foiled." 

"  Ah,  Grayson !  we  unstarred,  buttonless  wights  stand  but  a 
poor  chance  now  in  winning  the  hearts  of  the  ladies  fair.    'Our 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  125 

occupation's  gone.'  There  is  something  about  the  stripes  and 
tinsel  that  charms  the  girls.  We  shall  have  to  don  les  habits'miH- 
tairr,  or  make  up  oor  minds  to  be  Benedicts,"  said  Shirley,  with 
an  air  of  badinage,  at  the  same  lime  looking  with  an  expression 
of  mock  grief  upon  the  three  ladies  present. 

"  Come,  come,  Shirley,  you  do  the  ladies  injustice,"  responded 
the  Lieutenant.  "I  appeal  to  the  three  present  to  support  me  in  a 
denial  of  the  charge.  Say  ladies,  is  there  any  attraction  about  the 
trappings  of  war  to  win  your  hearts  and  fix  your  affections  1" 

"By  no  means,"  responded  Miss  Whitmore  ;  "if  a  man  is  a 
patriot,  I  care  not  whether  he  wears  the  insignia  of  the  battle- 
field or  not,"  and  she  smiled  very  complacently  on  the  officer  by 
her  side. 

"  There  is  a  wide  difference  in  our  views  of  patriotism,  Lieu- 
tenant," replied  Miss  Brent,  spiritedly,  yet  with  no  manifestation 
of  unkind  feeling.  "  I  deem  it  far  more  noble,  far  more  patriotic 
to  oppose  the  wrong  than  to  perpetrate  it.  To  fight  for  freedom 
and  liberty  than  for  subjugation." 

"  Oh,  we  will  not  argue  this  question  now,  Miss  Brent.  Our 
views  are  diverse,  and  I  suppose  irreconcilable,"  responded  the 
Federal  officer,  reddening  over  the  position  in  which  the  young 
lady's  remarks  placed  him. 

A  smile  of  satisfaction  gleamed  on  the  face  of  Grayson  and 
Shirley  at  the  embarrassment  of  the  Lieutenant.  They  were  at 
heart.  Southern,  and  were  only  awaiting  an  opportunity  to  get 
through  the  lines  to  join  Colonel  Morgan. 

"  Will  it  not  be  the  union  of  the  White  and  Red  Roses  when 
Miss  Lawrence  and  young  Morton  marry,  remarked  young  Gray- 
son to  Miss- Brent,  as  they  withdrew  to  a  position  nearer  the  door 
which  led  out  to  the  conservatory.  You  know  she  has  always 
been  regarded  as  one  of  our  most  patriotic  Southern  ladies.  .  In- 
deed, it,  is  said  that,  she  had  a  lover  who  was  taken  at  Donelson. 
It  is  no  other  than  our  old  friend  Charley  R.,  and  that  she  went  in 
disguise  of  a  nun  to  Camp  Chase  to  visit  him." 

"And  so  she  did,  though  it,  is  not  generally  known.  LuR., 
Charley's  sister,  accompanied  her,  and  she  will  not  believe  that 
Mary  and  Fred.  Mortou  will  ever  be  married.  You  see  she  will 
not  be  convinced.  But  certainly  she  is  the  only  one  that,  doubts. 
And  she  can  no  longer  disbelieve  after  what  she  must  have  ob- 
served this  evening." 

Supper  was  announced.  The  guests  were  ushered  into  the  large 
and  bnlliantly  lighted  dining  room,  where  tables  laden  with  every 
delicacy  that  could  please  the  eye  or  tempt  the  palate  spread  out 
in  luxurious  bounty  and  elegance  before  the  charmed  eye ;  spark- 
ling wines,  every  variety  of  confection  ;  in  style  a  la  Parisienne, 
ices,  sherbets,  noyaus,  jellies,  cakes  of  magnificent  size  and  pro- 
portion, every  variety  of  iced  ornament  that  the  imagination  could 
conceive,  with  fruits  of  all  climes,  were  arranged  with  such  artis- 
tic taste  and  skill  as  to  give  an  air  of  magic  grandeur  to  this 
splendid  collation. 


126  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

It  so  chanced  that,  at  the  table  Lu  R.  found  herself  vis-a-vis 
to  Miss  Lawrence  and  the  young  Captain,  while  to  her  left  stood 
Miss  Brent  with  Mr.  Spalding,  an  old  friend  of  her  brother  Charley 
and  now  a  devoted  admirer  of  Miss  R's. 

Mr.  Spalding,  a  young  man  of  twenty-seven,  handsome  and  in- 
telligent, was  the  son  of  a  wealthy  farmer  near  Lebanon,  Ken- 
tucky. Having  met  Miss  R.  during  the  winter  while  on  a  visit  to 
her  aunt,  who  resided  in  the  vicinity  of  his  father,  he  had  formed 
a  warm  attachment  for  her,  and  during  the  spring  and  summer 
had  become  quite  a  frequent  visitor  at  her  father's.    . 

Having  been  from  his  earliest  childhood  a  great  favorite  with 
tbe  family  of  Mr.  H.,  with  whom  he  was  distantly  connected,  he 
was  ever  a  guest  in  the  house  while  visiting  the  city,  As  soon  as 
he  received  his  invitation  to,  the  party  he  hastened  to  Louisville  to 
secure  the  company  of  Lu  R.,  but  found  on  arriving  that  Mr.  Shir- 
ley, who  was  also  an  admirer  of  the  young  lady,  had  previously 
engaged  it. 

Opposed  to  Miss  Brent  and  Mr.  Spalding  were  Miss  H.,  the 
daughter  of  the  generous  host,  and  young  Quiinby,  a  cousin  of 
Capt.  Morton's,  who  had  formerly  been  a  lover  of  Miss  Brent,  but 
owing  to  political  differences  they  had  become  estranged,  and  .the 
young  gentleman  now  vied  with  Lieut.  Dickinson  in  his  attentions 
to  Miss  Whitmore,  one  of  the  belles  of  the  occasion. 

Conversation  flowed  freely  between  the  friends  across  the  table. 
Only  young  Quimby  seemed  averse  to  enjoy  the  dashes  of  witty 
and  brilliant.repart.ee  which  were  giving  zest  to  the  charming 
viands.  He  was  piqued  at  his  proximity  to  Miss  Brent,  and  as- 
sumed an  expression  of  contempt  for  what  he  chose  to  denominate 
persiflage.  Capt.  Morton  appeared  the  very  embodiment  of  hap-  . 
piness.  He  had  a  smile  and  a  bow  for  every  one,  and  a  satisfac- 
tory air  which  seemed  to  say,  "I,  possess  all  my- heart  clesfres." 

Mary  Lawrence  was  gay,  unusually  so,  but  her  friend  Lu  R. 
thought  she  discovered  in  her  conduct  something  which  pro- 
nounced her.  bouyancy  an  effort.  There  was  an  expression  of  sub- 
duedness  in  her  manner  and  on  her  face,  which  to  the  sister's  eager, 
searching  interest,  appeared  the  index  of  that  soft  and*  tender 
emotion,  the  consciousness  of  loving  and  being  loved.  And  as  the 
thought  of  her  friead's  falsity  to'her  brother  settled  into  a  convic-' 
tion  in  the  sister's  heart,  she  grew  pale  with  the  feeling  of  the 
deep  wrong  done  that  noble  soul,  of  the  agony  and  sorrow  that 
must  wring  his  heart  with  anguish  unutterable. 

The  remainder  of  the  evening  was  passed  by  her  in  alternate 
hope  and  fear.  Every  movement  of  Mary  Lawrence  received  her 
searching  scrutiny.  But  amid  the  whirl  and  excitement  of  the 
swaying  multitude,  she  could  form  no  just  conclusion.  Often  as 
she.  passed  amid  the  throng,  her  ear  was  greeted  with  the  fearful 
announcement  of  the  certainty  of  the  approaching  marriage. 
*     Once  she  thought  to  take  Mary  aside  and  ask  her  if  it  could  be- 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  127 

true  that  she  had  deceived  Charley.  But  why  ask  her,  she  said  to 
herself.  If  she  is  false,  will  she  not  deny  it  ?  I  could  not  expect 
her  to  confess  to  me. 

Bewildered,  chagrined,  grieved,  jealous  of  her  brother's  honor 
and  happiness,  and  yet  unwilling  to  inflict  an  injustice,  even  in 
thought,  upon  the  friend  of  her  childhood,  Lu  R.  left  the  gay  as- 
semblage at  the  close  of  the  evening  with  feelings  to  which  she 
had  hitherto  been  a  stranger — feelings  that  she  could  not  analyze.* 

"  You  are  sad  to-night,  Miss  Lu,"  said  Mr.  Spalding  to  her,  as 
he  accompanied  her  and  Mr.  Shirley  to  the  house  of  a  friend  on 
Broadway. 

"  A  perceptible  change  has  passed  over  you  in  the  last  two 
hours,  Miss  Lu,"  interposed  Mr.  Shirley.  "Did  you  lose  your 
heart  in  the  gay  throng  of  cavaliers,"  to-night  ?  1  observed  the 
very  admiring  and  devoted  manner  of  that  gay  Lothario  from  Lex- 
ington, Mr.  Grigsby.  Was  he  really  successful  in  making  an  in- 
effaceable impression  V 

"  Oh,  by  no  means,  Mr.  Shirley,"  she  replied,  with  that  frank- 
ness so  characteristic  of  her  heart.  "  He  is  a  pleasant,  agreeable 
gentleman  ;  but  I  shall  have  no  remembrance  of  him  beyond  an 
evening  acquaintance." 

"I  would  not.be  bold  or  inquisitive,  Miss  Ln,"  said  Spalding, 
in  a  serious  tone,  "  but  I  will  dare  to  ask,  as  a  friend,  why  it  is 
you  have  been  so  sad  for  the  last  few  hours  V 

"  What,  have  I  been  sad  I  1  fancied  I  was  very  glad  and  happy. 
You  gentlemen  must  be  deceived.  Have  I  not  been  full  of  smiles 
and  laughter?" 

"  Bather  of  thought  and  sadness.  It  could  be  read  in  your 
face  ;  was  echoed  in  your  tone — spoke  in  every  movement." 

"  AH  a  mistake,  gentlemen.  Allow  me  to  say  to  you,  you  have 
greatly  deceived  yourselves." 

"  Happy  to  hear  you  so  declare,  Miss  Lu,"  replied  Spalding. 
"Better  that  we  should  be  deceived  than  you  grieved." 

"  How  very  brilliant  your  friend  Miss  Lawrence  was  to-night," 
he  added,  after  a  pause.  "  And  so  beautiful.  I  presume  there  is 
no  doubt  but  that  she  is  engaged  to  young  Morton.  His  atten- 
tions to  her  to-night  were  vexingly  devoted.  I  but  bowed  to  her. 
I  had  desired  to  converse  with  her,  for  I  wished  to  hear  her  de- 
scribe her  visit  to  Camp  Chase.  She  is  au  fait  in  description. 
Captain  Morton  wHl  secure  a  lovely  and  charming  prize  when  he 
claims  her  as  his  own." 

The  young  girl  made  no  reply. 

"  He  is  a  lucky  fellow,  indeed,"  interposed  Shirley.  "  Miss  Mary 
'is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  girls  of  our  city,  and  as  good  as  she 
is  beautiful." 

The  party  had  reached  the  steps  as  Mr.  Shirley  concluded  his 
remark.  Waiting  to  see  the  young  lady  safely  in,  they  bade  her 
good  night  and  left. 


J  28  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

To  describe  the  sister's  emotions  as  she  lay  thinking  over  the 
strange,  inexplicable  question  before  her,  would  be  impossible. 
Her  soul  was  stirred  to  its  depths  at  the  thought  of  the  deep  injury 
her  brother  had  received,  and  her  indignation  against  the  author 
of  the  crime  changed  her  love  to  hatred. 

"  I  will  write  to  Charley  !"  she  exclaimed,  as  she  lay  tossing  on 
her  pillow.  "  I  will  tell  him  he, has  been  deceived — wronged — 
cursed — in  bestowing  his  wealth  of  love  on  this  unworthy  girl." 


CHAPTEE  XXIX. 


THE     SURPRISE. 


It  had  for  some  time  been  the  intention  of  Colonel  Morgan  to 
advance  into  Kentucky,  for  the  purpose  of  recruiting  his  forces, 
and  of  harrassing  and  damaging  the  enemy,  by  cutting  off  trans- 
portation, capturing  his  detached  troops,  and  destroying  his  stores 
at  such  points  as  he  should  find  imperfectly  protected.  The  sad 
disaster  at  Lebanon,  Tennessee,  had  delayed  the  accomplishment 
of  his  plan  ;  but  though  postponed  it  had  never  been  abandoned. 

His  designs  had  been  imparted  to  his  staff,  and  their  advice  and 
co-operation  solicited.  They  fully  coincided  in  his  views,  deemed 
the  undertaking  one  that,  if  properly  conducted,  would  necessarily 
result  in  great  benefit  to  the. Confederate  cause. 

His  Adjutant,  Major  Basil  Duke,  a  man  of  cool  judgment  "and 
undaunted  courage,  together  with  Colonel  St.  Leger  Grenfel,  an 
English  officer,  who  had  attached  himself  to  Colonel  Morgan,  and 
who,  from  his  experience  and  skill,  was  peculiarly  fitted  to  accom- 
pany such  an  expedition,  were  his- chief  advisers. 

One  of  the  objects  of  the  expedition — indeed,  the  main  one — 
was  the  destruction  of  the  Louisville  and  Nashville  railroad,  upon 
which  the.  enemy  in  Tennessee,  owing  to  the  low  stage  of  the 
Cumberland  river,  was  almost  wholly  dependent  for  supplies. 
Could  the  road  be  effectually  destroyed,  it  would  necessarily 
greatly  embarrass  him  for  the  present,  and  certainly  retard  his 
advance. 

After  the  return  of  the  eighty  prisoners,  the  first  thing  to  be  at- 
tended to  was  the  arming  and  equipping  of  as  many  as  it  was  pos« 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  129 

sible  to  attend  to  under  the  circumstances.     Most  of  them  were 
veterans  who  could  be  relied  on  in  any  emergency. 

Many  of  them  were  natives  of  the  State,  perfectly  familiar  with 
its  roads  and  streams,  and  consequently  peculiarly  fitted  for  an 
advance,  and  for  reconnoitering. 

Colonel  Morgan,  after  having  matured  his  plan  and  made  such 
preparations  as  he  deemed  necessary,  determined  to  move  into 
Kentucky.  It  was  about  the  4th  ef  July  when  he  set  out  on  his 
undertaking. 

Leaving  his  headquarters  in  the  vicinity  of  Knoxville,  he  made 
a  dash  through  Middle  Tennessee,  crossed  the  Cumberland  river 
near  Hartsville,  and  entered  the  Stitte  south  of  Scottsville,  to 
which  point  he  proceeded  with  the  main  body  of  his  force,  num- 
bering about  one  thousand  men. 

Meanwhile,  he  sent  Colonel  Stearnes  with  a  detachment  of  about 
two  hundred  and  fifty  men,  to  capture  Tompkinsville,-  and  de- 
stroy what  stores  might  lie  found  there.  There  were  stationed  at 
this  town  four  companies  of  a  Pennsylvania  cavalry  regiment. 
Not  supposing  that  the  enemy  was  within  hundred  of  miles,  the 
Yankees  were  completely  surprised,  and  after  a  short  and  blood- 
less contest,  were  fully  routed,  with  the  loss  of  forty  prisoners  and 
as  many  horses  and  guns. 

It  was  an  entire  defeat  to  the  Federals,  and  so  rapid  were  the 
movements  of  the  Confederates,  that  before  the  routed  foe  could 
recover  from  his  consternation  and  rally  reinforcements  for  an 
attack,  the  enemy  had  fled,  they  knew  not  whither. 

Colonel  Morgan,  at  the  head  of  his  command,  then  dashed  into 
Glasgow,  where,  after  capturing  the  place  and  its  provost-guard, 
and  releasing  some  Southern  men  whom  he  found  imprisoned  for 
their  opinions,  he  issued  a  proclamation  explaining  his  object  in 
invading  the  State,  and  called  on  all  true  Kentuckians,  who  re- 
garded freedom  as  a  birth-right,  and  were  unwilling  to  bow  the 
knee  before  usurpation  and  tyranny,  to  join  his  standard  and  as- 
sist in  redeeming  their  beloved  State  from  the  vile  thraldom  under 
which  she  now  groaned. 

A  little  incident  occurred  here  worthy  of  notice,  since  it  illus- 
trates the  difference  between  the  animus  of  Southern  men  and  so- 
styled  Union  men. 

There  was  in  Glasgow  a  Judge  McFerrin,  a  prominent  member 
of  the  Baptist  Church,  now  an  old  man  ;  his  head  was  whitened 
by  age,  his  littoeness  and  buoyancy  were  long  since  gone.  When 
the  question  of  North  and  South  were  introduced  into  Kentucky, 
he  took  a  very  decided  stand  in  favor  of  what  he  called  "the  Gov- 
ernment." Some  of  his  friends,  more  far-sighted  than  himself,  • 
endeavored  to  convince  him  of  his  error  in  supposing  an  Abo- 
lition Administration  ever  was  or  ever  could  be  the  Constitutional 
Government  of  the  United  States.  But  the  old  man,  never  dis- 
tinguished for  quick  perception  and  correot  conclusions,  with  his 
9 


13>>  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

I 

faculties  blinded  by  years,  could  not  be  made  to  discriminate  be- 
tween the  two.  And  with  a  zeal  all  untempered  by  judgment,  he 
espoused  Ihe  "  union  cause,"  and  became  the  bitter  opponent  of 
all  who  dared  to  entertain  a  contrary  opinion.  With  that  intoler- 
ance characteristic  of  narrow  minds  governed  by  prejudice  and 
passion  rather  than  a  right  reason,  he  denounced  all  who  opposed 
his  mistakenviews  as  destitute  of  all  religion,  and  wholly  debar- 
red forever  from  entering  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Thus,  with 
Jesuitical  zeal,  he  became  the  persecutor  of  his  brethren.  For 
months  he  had  been  active  in  finding  out  who,  in  his  vicinity, 
were  /'vile  secesh,"  as  he  contemptuously  branded-  them,  and 
whenever  a  fitting  opportunity  offered,  he  would  "  bring  them  to 
justice,"  as  he  denominated  searching  out  innocent  neighbors,  and 
having  them  imprisoned. 

His  zeal  equalled  that  of  Paul,  "  when  breathing  out  threaten- 
ings  and  slaughter  against  the  disciples  of  the  Lord,  he  persecuted 
this  way  unto  death,  binding  and  delivering  into  prison  both  men 
and  women." 

And  all  this  was  done,  it  was  alleged,  to  support  "  the  best 
Government  in  the  world,"  as  if  the  precepts  of  the  Divine  Teach- 
er were  no  longer  binding  on  the  consciences  of  those  who  had  es- 
poused the  cause  of  the  civil  magistrate. 

Colonel  Morgan's  men  had  been  informed  of  the  course  pursued 
by  the  old  Judge.  Partly  by  way  of  retaliation,  and  partly  for 
amusing  variety,  they  determined  on  his  arrest. 

It  was  high  noon.  The  old  Judge,  sitting  in  his  office  in  all 
the  assumption  of  judicial  dignity,  was  conversing  with  two  or 
three  friends,  like-minded  with  himself,  on  the  "wicked  rebellion," 
and  the  doom  that  ought  tp  be  meted  out  to  every  traitor  in  the 
land,  be  he  young  or  old,  distinguished  or  obscure. 

His  wrath  waxed  hot  as  he  dwelt  on  the  "  high  crime  of  trying 
tp  overthrow  the  best  Government  in  the  act  of  endeavoring  to 
break  up  the  glorious  Union  for  which  our  forefathers  bled  ;"  and 
as  he  warmed  with  his  subject,  his  righteous  indignation  would 
vent  itself  in  sundry  hard  thumps  on  the  red  cherry  table  at  bis 
side,  which  served  with  him  to  give  emphasis  to  his  loud  and  bitter 
words.  While  the  old  Judge  was  thus  in  the  very  height  of  his 
abusive  tirade  a  young  man,  breathless  with  excitement,  rushed  to 
the  door  of  the  office,  and  calling  out,  "  Morgan's  men  !  Morgan's 
men  in  town  1  "  disappeared  down  the  street.  Suddenly  the  scene 
changed.  The  question  was  now  not  how  he  should  defend  his' 
country  against  the  vile  secesh  invader,  but  how  he  could  save  his 
own  important  person.        ' 

A  fearful  silence  quickly  succeeded  the  loud  rant  of  the  moment 
before,  and  the  crimson  of  fierce  passion  died  out  in  the  wrinkled 
face  of  the  old  man,  o  ver  which  the  deadly  pallor  of  fear  now  spread 
itself.  This  violent  denouncer  of  "  traitors  and  rebels,"  like 
Felix,  was  seized  'with  .sudden  trembling,  in  view  of  his  high  mis^ 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  131 

demeanor.  His  ardent  patriotism  vaporized  in  a  moment  at  the 
mere  mention  of  the  enemy's  presence.  Not  waiting  for  any 
further  assurance  of  danger,  he  east  one  wild,  blank  look  on  his 
horror-stricken  companions,  and  seizing  his  hat  with  the  despera- 
tion of  a  man  whoseeks  to  free  himself  from  impending  destruc- 
tion, he  rushed  through  the  back  door  of  his  office,  and  with  rapid 
strides  sought  his  home.  Reaching  the  house  he  dashed  frantically 
in  and  exclaimed  with  gasping  breath,  "  Morgan,  Morgan,  Mor- 
gan !  "  and  without  pausing  to  answer  any  of  the  many  inquiries 
proposed  by  his  affrighted  family,  he  again  dashed  out  of  the  door 
through  which  he  had  entered,  hastening  down  the  street  as  if 
pursued  by  the  vengeful  Furies,  never  pausing  a  moment  to  look' 
to  the  right  or  left,  until  he  reached  the  outskirts  of  the  little  town. 
He  was  making  his  way  with  all  possible  celerity  to  a  field  of  corn 
which  stood  to  the  left  of  the  main  road,  hoping  to  secrete  himself 
therein  until  he  could  pass  unobserved  to  the  house  of  a  friend 
two  miles  distant  in  the  country.  But,  alas,  for  his  vision  of  es- 
cape !     Just  as  he  gained  the  fence,  a  voice  cried  out — 

"  There  he  goes,  boys !     See  him,  see  him  ;.  catch  him  !  " 

"  Where,  where  ?  "  cried  out  a  dozen  voices  at  once. 

Like  a  death-knell  the  words  fell  on  the  ear  of  the  old  man,  now 
vainly  essaying  to  climb  the  fence.  He  was  perched,  target-like, 
on  the  topmost  rail,  his  hair  streaming  out  on  the  breeze,  (he  had 
lust  his  hat  in  his  desperate  plunge  at  the  fence)  his  face  pale  with 
affright,  while  he  shook  from  head  to  foot  with  trepidation  and 
alarm. 

"  "Where,  where  ?"  the  boys  repeated. 

"  Yonder  on  that  fence  behind  that  large  tree.  Don't  you  see 
him  ?  "  and  young  Leslie,  who  knew  the  old  man  well,  rushed  on 
towards  the  spot,  followed  by  his  comrades,  shouting  like  madmen. 

"  Our  prisoner,  Judge,"  said  he,  a^  he  sprang  forward  towards 
the  old  man.  "  Turn  about  is  fair,  play,  you  know.  You  have 
been  persecuting  our  friends  ;  we  must  now  avenge  their  wrongs. 
Come  with  us,  if  you  please."  The  old  man  was  assisted  from  his 
perch,  placed  between  tWo  of  the  hoys,  and  marched  back  to  town, 
his  guard  in  the  meantime  preserving  the  greatest  gravity,  while 
the  hoys  behind  were  convulsed  with  laughter. 

"And  the  day  of  retribution  has  at  last  come,  and  woe  to  the 
offenders,  I  tell  you,  boys.  They  must  now  endure  something 
more  than  the  lashings  of  conscience,"  responded  Morgan,  in  a 
solemn  voice,  at  the  same  time  looking  most  mischievously  at 
Charley. 

"  Ah  !  most  fearful,  indeed,  must  be  their  doom.  Ours  is  the 
Draconian  code — death  by  the  law  for  every  crime,"  added  Char- 
ley, impressively,  catching  in  a  moment  young  Morgan's  meaning. 

Les'ie  and  Irving,  scarcely  able  to  contain  themselves,  glanced 
round  upon  their  companions  with  an  approving  smile,  while  the 
boys  behind  them  laughed  outright  at  the  farce. 


132  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

The  boys  knew  that  Col.  Morgan  would  release  the.old  Judge 
after  scaring  him  a  -while,  and  they  were  determined  to  punish  him 
a  little  on  their  own  score. 

So  Charley  and  young  Morgan,  assisted' by  several  others  who 
crowded  round  the  trembling  culprit,  continued  their  ominous  re- 
marks, preserving  all  the  while  a  most  serious  tone. 

The  old  Judge  looked  nervously  first  on  one  side  and  then  on 
the  other.  He  would  have  defended  himself,  but  he  could  not 
think  what  to  say.  He  knew  he  was  guilty  of  all  the  charges  the 
boys  so  adroitly  brought  against  "  offenders,"  and  he  was  left 
without  one  plea  to  urge  in  his  own  behalf.  He  was  thinking  as 
well. as  the  confused  state  of  his  mind  would  allow  of  throwing 
himself  on  the  clemency  of  Col.  .Morgan,  whom  he  had  often  heard 
was  full  of  magnanimity,  when  Charley  remarked  to  the  boys  in  a 
loud,  distinct  tone — 

"  Our  Colonel  is  always  ready  to  forgive  a  personal  wrong,  boys, 
you  know,  but  when  h\$  friends  have  suffered  at  the  hands  of 
Union  men,  he  never  fails  to  redress  their  grievances  in  the  most 
summary  manner." 

The  old  man's  heart  sunk  within  him.  His  last  hope  was  gone — 
his  knees  trembled  violently — the  deadly  pallor  of  his  face  in- 
creased— he  stared  wildly  upon  his  tormentors.  Soon  he  would 
be  in  the  presence  of  his  inexorable  Judge  to  await  his  fearful  sen- 
tence. "  What  would  the  sentence  be  ?"  his  fearful  heart  asked. 
What  could  it  be  but  the  severest  punishment. 

"  Oh,  that  I  had  but  pursued  a  different  course,"  he  said  to  him- 
self. "  My  country  did  not  require  all  this  at  my  hands.  Oh,  that 
I  had  minded  my  own  business  and  let  these  matters  alone." 

"  There  are  Southern  men  in  jail  in  this  town  now,  I  hear,"  re- 
plied Morgan,  "placed  there  through  the  efforts  of  Union  men. 
They  must  be  avenged."  * 

"  Some  of  our  friends  and  relatives  are  in  prison,  Jones,"  said 
Leslie  to  one  of  the  young  men  near  him.  "  We  must  see  that 
they  are  released  and  their  persecutors  sent  down  to  Dixie  to  try 
the  charms  of  imprisonment  there." 

These  two  young  men  were  from  the  vicinity  of  Glasgow. 
Their  relatives  were  all  Southern  in  sentiment,  and  with  others 
had  shared  the  injustice  of  the  mob. 

"  They  will  be  fully  revenged  now,  Leslie.  Those  who  have 
placed  them  there  will  have  to  suffer  for  it.  Col.  Morgan  will 
ferret  out  the  whole  matter,  and  when  he  finds  the  guilty  one,  I 
tell  you,  woe  be  to  him." 

"  It  were  better  that  a  mill-stone  were  hung  about  bis  neck  and 
he  cast  into  the  depths  of  the  Mississippi." 

"  And  it  is  but  just  that  they  should  suffer,"  responded  Charley, 
preserving  his  solemn  air  and  impressive  tone.  "  Nothing  but  just. 
It  is  a  crying  sin,  that  should  meet  with  the  severest  penalty,  this 
thing  of  taking  up  a  man  and  putting  him  in  prison  merely  be- 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  133 

cause  he  can't  think  as  another  man  does.  "We  don't  imprison 
men  for  their  opinions,  and  woe  to  the  Union  man  when  he  falls 
into  our  hands  who  has  been  the  cause  of  hunting  out  his  Southern 
neighbors  and  putting  them  in  jail." 

Thus  regaling  the  ears  of  their  conscience-stricken  prisoner,  the 
boys  bore  him  along  to  the  presence  of  Colonel  Morgan.  Leslie 
introduced  the  Judge. 

"Judge  McFerrin,"  observed  the  Colonel,  eyeing  closely  the 
trembling  old  man,  "  I  think  I  have  heard  of  you,  Judge.  Not 
very  friendly  to  us  'vile  secesh,'  I  believe — have  had  something 
to  do  with  arresting  those  gentlemen  there  whom  I  have  just  re- 
leased," said  he,  pointing  to  five  citizens  of  the  place  who  had 
but  a  few  minutes  before  stepped  forth  from  the  county  jail. 

The  old  man  could  not  reply.  He  stood  as  if  spell-bound,  look- 
ing upon  his  accuser. 

"Take  care  of  the  Judge,  boys.  I  will  attend  to  his  case 
another  time,"  and  Col.  Morgan,  bowing  very  politely,  waved  to 
the  boys  to  remove  the  prisoner,  which  was  done  with  all  possible 
solemnity. 

The  old  man,  trembling  from  head  to  foot,  was  conducted  to  his 
office,  the  door  locked,  and  a  guard  stationed  round  the  house. 

The  boys,  who  had  entered  into  the  scene  with  great  zest,  and 
who  had  derived  no*  little  merriment  from  the  ludicrous  fright  of 
the  old  Judge,  determined  not  to  release  him  until  hewas  sworn 
to  good  behavior  for  the  future.  So,  after  keeping  him  in  prison 
for  fujl  three  hours,  dinnerless  and  quaking  with  alarm,  they 
brought  him  forth  and  duly  administered  the  oath  of  allegiance  to 
the  Southern  Confederacy,  to  which  the  old  Judge,  happy  for  any 
means  of  escape,  subscribed,  albeit  his  self-pride  brought  certain 
contortions  to  his  face,  which  the  boys,  divining  the  cause,  enjoyed 
most  fully. 

"  G-o,  sin  no  more.  "We'll  be  round  about  here  soon  again,  and 
hope  to  have  a  good  report  from  you,"  said  Irving,  taking  upon 
himself  the  dignity  of  a  magistrate.  The  old  Judge  turned  and 
hastened  away  from  this  improvised  court  of  justice  a  wiser  if  not 
a  better  man. 

In  a  few  short  hours  fear  had  so  far  overcome  his  patriotism, 
that  he  has  never  since  manifested  any  lingering  of  his  Jesuitical 
propensity. 

That  evening  Colonel  Morgan,  with  his  command,  set  out  on  a 
rapid  march  to  Central  Kentucky. 

"  I  wonder,"  said  Charley  to  young  Lawrence,  as  the  two  rode 
on  in  the  soft  moonlight,  "  if  we  shall  really  reach  Louisville  t  " 

The  interrogatory  was  propounded  in  a  tone  so  full  of  melan- 
choly, that  Lawrence  looked  up  in  surprise,  and  fixed  his  eyes  full 
upon  the  face  of  his  friend,  which  was  plainly  visible  in  the  moon- 
light, its  sadness  deepened  by  the  pale,  soft  light. 

"  Indeed,  I  cannot   tell,  Charley,  but  suppose  we  will  if  it  is 


134  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

practicable.  But  one  would  think  from  your  loqk  that  you  would 
prefer  death  to  a  return  to  your  old  home.  What  is  the  matter 
with  you,  anyhow?  You  have  looked  as  if,  Atlas-like,  you  have 
the  whole  world  on  your  shoulders.  I  have  noticed  it  ever  since 
this  expedition  was  projected.  Surely  you  are  not  seriously 
opposed  to  a  visit  to  our  clear  old  city,  if  it  does  wear  the  gyves 
of  the  <  Old  Baboon.'" 

"  No,  no,  John ;  of  course  I  do  not  object  to  returning  to  Louis- 
ville." 

The  lips  uttered  the  words — the  conscience  questioned  their 
truth. 

"If  she  is  false,"  he  exclaimed  to  himself,  "why  should  I  de- 
sire to  return]  Death — the  cold,  lone  grave — eternity  with  all  its 
dread  uncertainties — anything — anything  rather  than  see1  her — sh6 
the  light  of  my  life — another's ! " 

"  Charley,  you  puzzle  me,  old  fellow.  You  act  like  one  in  a 
strange,  wild  dream.  I  have  noticed  it  for  several  days.  What 
on  earth  can  the  matter  be  with  you  ?  when  we  are  all  so  delighted 
with  the  thought  of  being  once  more  on  old  Kentucky  soil,  so  wild 
with  the  hope  of  getting  back  to  Louisville,  to  greet  our  friends 
and  punish  our  foes,  to  find  you  sad  and  gloomy  is  anomalous. 
I  can't  tell  how  to  interpret  it.  You  must  have  something  on 
your  mind,  that  you  haven't  told  me  of.  Out  with  it.  If  it  is  a 
secret,  I  will  keep  it  for  you  most  masonically — that  you  know. 
If  you  have  sins  to  atone  for,  let  me  be  your  father  confessor.  It 
will  do  you  good  to  unbosom  yourself.     Come,  let's  have  it." 

The  words  of  avowal  struggled  up  to  our  young  hero's  lips. 
He  was  about  to  disclose  his  consuming  grief.  He  paused  a  mo- 
ment, choked  down  the  words  with  a  mighty  effort,  and  replied, 
with  as  much  nonchalence  as  his  feelings  would  admit : 

"You  must  be  mistaken,  John.  I  am  sure  I  act  very  na- 
turally. I  am  not  well,  to  be  sure,  and  this  no  doubt,  affects  me. 
Perhaps,  I  do  seem  dull — I  certainly  feel  so." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  that,  my  old  boy.  This  trip  will  cure  any 
indisposition  you  may  have,  I'll  wager.  Won't  it  be 'too  fine,  if 
we  can  pounce  down  on  old  Prentice,  Jerry  Boyle,  and  a  few 
others  of  the  same  calibre,  and  whip  them  off  to  Dixie?  But  the 
cowards,  they'll  run.  I'll  venture  old  Prentice  is  already  sleep- 
ing of  nights  in  Jeffersonville  or  New  Albany.  We'll  never  get 
him,  I'm  afraid  ;  he  will  always  manage  to  keep  out  of  harm's 
way." 

Charley  made  no  answer  to  his  friend's  remarks,  but  rode  along 
silent  and  thoughtful.'  After  several  fruitless  efforts  to  engage 
him  in  conversation,  Lawrence  desisted,  and  gave  himself  to 
humming  snatches  of  Southern  airs,  and  indulging  in  bright 
dreams — many  of  which,  like  the  dreamings  of  us  all,  were  never 
to  be  realized. 

About   ten    o'clock    the  column  reached  Barren  River,  where 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  135 

they  halted  for  the  night.  Pickets  were  thrown  out — scouts  sent 
forward — every  precaution  was  taken  to  avoid  surprise  by  the 
foe.  The  remembrance  of  Lebanon,  Tennessee,  was  yet  fresh 
in  their  memories. 

Charley  was  required  to  do  picket  duty.  The  lonely  hours  of 
the  night  rolled  wearily  on,  as  sullenly  he  brooded  over  his  great 
grief.  How  mockingly  every  sound  fell  on  his  ear?  How  mock- 
ingly every  sight  met  his  eye  I  The  moonbeams,  quivering  in 
silver  sheen  on  the  bosom  of  the  quiet-moving  river  ;  the  nodding 
star  of  heaven;  the  deep,  dark  forest;  the  breeze  that  through 
its  silence  crept ;  the  low  monotone  of  the  cricket ;  the  baying  of 
the  watch-dog — all  seemed  to  whisper  to  his  soul  tales  of  disap- 
pointment and  woe. 

"  Scenes  that  are  brightest  awhile  may  beguile 
Hearts  that  are  lightest,  and  eyes  that  smile  ; 
And  o'er  them,  above  us,  Nature  may  beam — 
But  with  none  to  love  u»\  how  dark  they  seem." 


CHAPTER    XXX. 


LEBANON,      KENTUCKY 


It  was  Friday  morning,  July  11th,  when  Colonel  Morgan,  with 
about  seven  hundred  men,  set  out  for  Lebanon,  distant  thirty-five 
miles  from  Barren  River.  The  day  was  hot  and  dry  ;  the  burning 
summer's  sun  looked  down  from  the  cloudless  heavens  above  upon 
the  parched  earth,  which  reflected  back  his  scorching  beams  into 
the  heated  air,  until  the  breath  of  the  simoon  seemed  to  sweep 
over  the  land.  But  the  men,  alike  unnerved  by  scorching  sun  or 
winter's  icy  breath,  rode  cheerily  on.  And  one,  to  have  seen  them 
with  their  coats  off,  carelessly  hanging  from  the  arm  or  thrown 
across  the  horse  before  them,  while  they  jauntily  sped  along,  and 
listened  to  their  gay  conversation  and  merry  laughter,  would  have 
thought  it  a  jocund  hunting  party,  rather  than  a  band  of  soldiers, 
far  away  from  friendly  assistance,  in  the  heart  of  an  enemy's  coun- 
try. Honor,  all  honor,  to  those  brave  men  and  their  gallant 
chieftain,  who  thus  boldly  penetrated  the  lines  of  the  foe,  and, car- 
ried terror  and  destruction  throughout  his  borders  ! 


136  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

Twenty -nine  miles  of  the  rough,  weary  road  had  been  passed 
Eleven  o'clock  at  night  found  this  handful  of  brave  men  at  the 
New  Market  Bridge,  on  Rolling  Fork,  six  miles  from  Lebanon. 
Up  to  this  point  they  had  encountered  no  difficulty.  The  enemy 
had  wisely  withdrawn  from  their  path. 

^  And  here  they  were,  hundreds  of  miles  from  any  force  that  could 
give  them  relief— in  a  hostile  country,  surrounded  on  all  sides  by 
a  vengeful  foe — every  where  beset  by  those  whose  chief  joy  it 
would  be  to  betray  them  into  the  hands  of  that  foe — they  braved 
danger  in  every  form,  encountered  hardship  in  every  phase,  that 
they  might  serve  the  cause  of  right  andhuman  liberty. 

Lebanon,  the  county  seat  of  Marion*  is  a  well  located  town, 
with  a  population  of  several  hundreds.  It  is  the  terminus  of  a 
branch  of  the  Louisville  and  Nashville  railroad,  and  the  thorough- 
fare for  all  the  travel  and  produce  from  the  large  extent  of  coun- 
try surrounding  it,  which  finds  at  outlet  at  Louisville.  It  was  re- 
garded as  a  point  of  great  importance  by  the  Federal  Government, 
and  w'as  one  of  the  first  places  in  Kentucky  permanently  occupied 
by  their  troops.  At  the  time  of  which  we  write,  they  had  con- 
centrated at  this  point  a  large  amount  of  stores  of  every  descrip- 
tion. A  commodious  hospital  had  been  erected  near  the  town, 
and  the  large  wagon-yards  were  filled  with  wagons,  ambulances, 
and  all  vehicle  paraphernalia.  It  was  a  tempting  prize  to  the 
Confederates,  and  their  brave  leader  decided  to  secure  it. 

Two  companies  of  the  28th  Kentucky,  under  the  Federal  officer, 
Lieutenant-Colonel  A.  T.  Johnson,  held  the  place.  So  rapid  had 
been  the  movements  of  Colonel  Morgan  since  he  entered  the  State, 
that  but  little  respecting  his  whereabouts  could  be  ascertained  with 
certainty. 

The  excitement  and  indignation  consequent  on  the  occupation 
of  this  town  by  the  Federal  troops  had  subsided.  All  was  now 
peace  and  quiet — the  villagers  had  grown  accustomed  to  the  "blue- 
coated  gentry,"  and  those  who'detested  them  and  the  principles 
they  represented,  had  learned  to  regard  them  with  contemptuous 
silence. 

Suddenly,  on  the  11th  of  July,  the  town  was  thrown  into  a  state 
of  the  wildest  confusion  and  alarm.  Rumors  sped  through  the 
streets  that  John  Morgan  and  his  men,  having  driven  before  them 
all  the  Federal  forces  in  the  southern  part  of  the  State,  routing 
and  slaying  them  at  every  point,  were  now  marching  rapidly  on 
Lebanon.  Every  tongue  caught  up  the  fearful  intelligence — from 
house  to  house  the  news  was  borne — each  repetition  giving  a 
widely  exaggerated  -margin,  until  the  story  was  indeed  one  of 
fearful  import.  Shortly,  a  dispatch  came — this  was  authentic — 
and  never  did  questioner  of  oracular  divinity  wait  with  more  eager 
fear  the  decisive  response,  than  did  the  terrified  crowd  the  unfold- 
ing of  the  lightning's  message.  Alas !  it  was  but  little  calculated 
te  still  their  consternation. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  137 

About  noon,  the  following  dispatch  was  received  :    » 

"  John  Morgan  is  twenty  miles  south-west  of  Lebanon,  near  the  little  Til- 
lage of  'Pinch  'Em  Slyly,'  and  will  take  Lebanon  to-niyht."' 

This  confirmation  of  their  fears  sped  on  the  wings  of  the  wind, 
and,  like  the  morning  rumors,  was  soon  added  to,  and  so  highly 
colored,  that  the  six  hours'  future  became  the  fearful  now. 

Every  moment  Morgan  was  expected  to  rush  through  the  streets 
— what  was  to  follow  his  debut,  no  one  knew — each  one  imagined 
as  suited  his  preconceived  opinions  and  desires. 

The  military  partook  deeply  of  the  fright.  Runners  were  dis- 
patched here,  there,  every  where,  to  warn  the  Home  Guards  to 
hold  themselves  in  readiness  for  a  most  fearful  attack.  One  com- 
pany of  the  28th  Kentucky  was  placed  in  position  for  offensive 
operations,  under  command  of  Captain  Barth.  Dispatches  were 
sent  to  Louisville  and  other  points  for  reinforcements  to  be  for- 
warded immediately  ;  the  town  was  but  feebly  defended,  and  un- 
less assistance  was  received,  it  must  certainly  surrender. 

Evening  came,  but  brought  no  reinforcements.  The  command- 
er, Lieniemiiit-Colonel  Johnson,  was  in  a  sad  dilemma.  Every 
moment  the  dreaded  foe  was  expected  to  bear  down  upon  his  fee- 
ble band  with  an  overwhelming  force  of  veterans.  Jn  the  con- 
sternation, the  bridge  across  the  Rolling  Fork  was  forgotten.  It 
was  a  point  of  some  importance,  and-  might  be  defended.  Some 
one  mentioned  its  strength  to  the  terrified  commander.  Immedi- 
ately a  squad  of  men,  composed  of  volunteers  and  Home  Guards, 
under  young  Lieutenant  Vatliu,  was  sent  out  to  guard  the  bridge. 
Pickets  were  stationed  on  all  the  roads  leading  into  the  town,  for 
no  one  seemed  to  have  the  least  idea  from  what  direction  Morgan 
would  approach. 

Men,  women  and  children  thronged  the  streets,  hurrying  to  and 
fro  with  no  definite  object  in  view,  except  to  hear  the  news.  Stores, 
groceries,  shops,  all  were  closed — their  alarmed  proprietors  sway- 
ing to  and  fro  with  the  moving  crowd.  It  is  doubtful  whether  a 
drachm  of  medicine  could  have  been  secured  for  a  dying  man. 

Hour  after  hour  of  fearful  suspense  rolled  by,  and  yet  no  enemy 
came.  Half  past  eleven  o'clock  at  night  a  man  dashed  into  the 
town,  saying  Morgan  was  at  the  bridge,  only  six  miles  out,  The 
guard  had  fired  upon  him,  and  he  was  in  full  retreat.  This  calm- 
ed the  fears  of  the  over-credulous,  and  some  of  the  weary  watchers 
ventured  to  retire. 

But  the  Federal  commander  had  too  high  an  appreciation  of 
Colonel  Morgan's  courage,  to  sfjppose  that  the  force  at  the  bridge 
could  thus  easily  put  him  to  flight,  bo  he  ordered  two  men  to 
accompany  Lieutenant  Fiddler  to  the  bridge,  and  ascertain  the 
true  slate  of  affairs,  and  report  immediately. 

This  Lieut,  Fiddler,  a  pettifogging  lawyer,  wbo  used  to  "fiddle" 
on   every  possible  occasion  in  all  matters,  whether  of  church  or 


138  EAIDS  AND  EOMANCE 

'  state,  finding  his  profession  wholly  unremunerative,  had  "enlisted," 
to  use  bis  own  words,  "under  his  country's  glorious  banner,  to 
serve  his  country's  glorious  cause."  He  was  of  medium  heigbt, 
slim,  red-haired,  and  self-important.  He  had  volunteered  his  ser- 
vices, on  this  momentous  occasion,  as  aid  to  Col.  Johnson. 

Mounted  upon  his  charger,  with  a  splendid  navy  pistol  at  his 
side,  he  dashed  off  amid  the  darkness,  accompanied  by  his  body- 
guard of  two,  to  see  how  matters  stood  at  the  bridge.  Inflated 
with  a  sense  of  his  own  importance,  he  spurred  on  at  break-neck 
speed  towards  the  accomplishment  of  his  momentous  mission. 

He,  with  bis  two  aids  close  beside  him,  was  ascending  a  hill  a 
few  hundred  yards  from  New  Market,  when  the  three  were  very 
unexpectedly  ordered  to  halt  by  the  advance  guard  of  Morgan's 
brigade.  The  fiddling  Lieutenant  debated  not  a  moment.  Wheel- 
ing his  horse  about,  he  started  out  under  whip  and  spur  for  Leban- 
on, followed  by  his  panting  attendants.  Shots  came  whizzing 
around  their  ears.  The  clatter  of  the  pursuing  horsemen  grew 
every  moment  nearer.  He  strained  his  failing  steed  to  the  utmost. 
Already  he  was  distanced  by  his  body-guard,  and  solus  he  was 
urging  on  his  fearful  gallop,  when  two  of  the  dreaded  foe  dashed 
by  him  and  cut  off  further  retreat.  Appropriating  horse,  equip- 
ments and  revolver,  they  gave  him  parole  and  left  him  to  bis  fate. 

Two  miles  from  this  the  Confederates  encountered  the  pickets, 
which  were  readily  driven  back  upon  the  main  body.  Morgan 
sent  forward  scouts  to  ascertain  the  enemy's  position  and  num- 
bers. They  reported  a  small  force  drawn  up  in  line  of  battle  two 
miles  ahead.  Advancing,  he  dismounted  and  deployed  two  com- 
panies to  attack  the  enemy  on  the  left  and  right. 

Rapidly,  yet  silently,  the  men  marched  on.  They  were  not  dis- 
covered until  they  were  within  a  few  hundred  yards  of  Johnson's 
command,  when  they  were  fired  upon  by  the  Federals.  They 
rushed  forward'  and  returned  the  fire  with  a  well-directed  volley, 
and  at  the  same  time  the  mounted  men  dashed  up  in  front. 

A  general  panic  seized  the  enemy,  and  casting  aside  guns  and 
everything  that  could  impede  their  race,  they  set  out,  pell-mell,  in 
full  retreat  along  the  road,  over  fences,  through  fields  and  wood- 
lands, each  one  striving  with  strained  nerve  to  make  the  best  time 
back  to  the  town.  Two  of  their  men  lay  dead  upon  the  field, 
others  were  wounded  so  severely  that  they  had tto  be  left.  The 
Confederates  pressed  on  after  the  fleeing  enemy.  In  a  few  minutes 
Colonel  Johnson  and  sixty-five  out  of  his  force  of  eighty  men  were 
prisoners.     Only  thirteen  escaped. 

Colonel  Morgan,  at  the  head  of  his  brigade,  entered  the  town 
without  further  opposition.  He  was  welcomed  by  many  with  evi- 
dent manifestations  of  joy.  Taking  immediate  possession  of  the 
telegraph  office,  he  learned  that  the  60th  Indiana,  under  Colonel 
Owens,  had  been  despatched  from  the  Junction  to  reinforce  John- 
sun. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  139 

An  order  was  given  to  Major  Gano,  of  the  Texas  Rangers,  to 
proceed  with  a  company  of  men  and  destroy  the  railroad  bridge  on 
the  Lebanon  branch,  thus  preventing  the  troops  from  reaching  the 
town.  This  was  successfully  accomplished  by  this  young  and 
daring  officer. 

They  were  now  fully  secure  from  all  attacks,  and  the  few  re- 
maining hours  of  the  night  were  spent  in  rest. 

Early  next  morning  Morgan  threw  out  pickets  on  every  road, 
and  then  proceeded  to  the  work  of  inspecting  the  depots,  with  then- 
stores  of  sugar,  coffee,  flour,  bread,  guns,  caps,  cartridges,  powder, 
boots,  shoes,  hats,  etc.  Not.  wishing  wilfully  to  sacrifice  these 
immense  commissary  stores,  he  made  known  to  the  people  his  in- 
tention to  divide  among  those  that  needed  such  portions  of  the 
captured  articles  as  they  might  desire.  Great  was  the  rush  to  the 
depots  from  every  quarter.  Men,  women  and  children,  with  wheel- 
barrows, baskets,  buckets,  and  every  available  means  of  transport- 
ation, crowded  the  depot  to  receive  a  share  of  the  general  spoil. 
Sugar,  coffee  and  flour  were  distributed  with  a  generous  hand  by 
the  soldiers  appointed  for  the  purpose. 

"  Come,  boys,"  said  Col.  St.  Leger  Grenfel,  who  was  charged 
with  the  burning  of  the  depots  ;  "  come,  we  must  do  our  work,  the 
day  passes.  Get  your  torches,  We  are  going  to  have  a  grand 
bon-fire,  of  which  Uncle  Sam  will  pay  the  expense.  We  have  feci 
the  hungry  and  administered  to  the  wants  of  the  needy,  and  now 
we  must  commit  this  surplus  to  the  flames.  But  first,  boys,  take 
for  yourselves  all  you  desire.  You  are  entitled  to  it  by  right  ot 
capture.     Come,  boys,  to  work." 

The  order  was  scarcely  given  before  the  boys,  eager  for  the  un- 
dertaking, rushed  in  and  fired  the  building  at  a  dozeu  points. 

"Now,  Captain  Roberts,  you  proceed  with  your  men  to  the  ord- 
nance department  and  do  likewise." 

With  alacrity  the  command  followed  their  leader,  and  after  hav- 
ing secured  such  arms  as  the  Colonel  had  designated,  for  the  arm- 
ing of  new  recruits,  the  men  dashed  into  the  depot,  gathered  up 
armf'uls  ol  guns,  and  proceeding  with  them  to  the  nearest  availa- 
ble point,  would  batter  them  over  the  rocks  until  they  were  bent 
double  ;  others  would  pound  them  with  heavy  stones,  thus  render- 
ing the  locks  entirely  useless.  It  was  a  scene  of  the  greatest  ac- 
tivity. The  boys  would  cheer  each  other  with  song  and  jest,  and 
kindly  word,  while  the  citizens,  who  grouped  around  them,  joined 
in  the  merrimual  and  laughter,* irrespective  of  old  prejudices. — 
Cartridge  boxes,  kegs  of  powder,  cases  of  caps  and  guns,  were  in- 
discriminately thrown  into  a  stream  that  ran  outside  of  the  town, 
which  precluded  forever  their  recovery  by  the  Yankees. 

It  was  laughable  to  see  the  many  and  ready  transformations 
effected  by  the  boys,  who,  amid  the  roaring  of  laughter,  stepped 
forth  metamorphosed  into  Lincoln  soldiers.  Every  man  who  de- 
sired provided  himself  with  a  full  Yankee  outfit — pants,  coat,  hat, 
boots  and  gun. 


140  *  EAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

All  instructions  having  been  obeyed,  the  order  rang  out,  "Now 
fire  the  buildings,  boys.*'  In  an  instant  twenty  men  rushed  in  and 
applied  the  burning  brand. 

A  few  moments  more  and  the  flames,  crackling  and  hissing, 
leaped  from  point  to  point,  until  the  two  large  "houses  were  wrapped 
in  a  glaring  sheet  of  fire.  As  the  boys  stood  gazing  on  the  fearful 
and  sublime  scene,  they  set  up  shout  after  shout  of  triumph,  their 
pealing  voices  rising  high  above  the  crashing  noise  of  falling  tim- 
bers and  the  hissing  tongues  of  iiery  flame. 

Colonel  Morgan  had  reserved  for  himself  the  superintendence  of 
the  destruction  of  the  large  hospital  with  its  stores.  Taking  with 
him  a  detachment  of  picked  men,  among  whom  were  Charley, 
Brent,  Curd.  Irving  and  Hawkins,  he  proceeded  to  have  removed 
to  places  of  safety  and  comfort,  the  few  Federal  sick  that  there 
were 'contained  in  it.  Gently,  as  a  brother,  he  provided  for  their 
wants.  He  remembered  that,  though  foes,  they  were  helpless ; 
though  seeking  to  destroy  his  life,  they  were  suffering  human 
beings.  When  the  last  man  was  beyond  danger,  the  hospital  was 
fired.  Simultaneously  with  this,  the  torch  was  applied  to  the 
wagons  and  ambulances,  and  the  flames  from  these  two  points, 
combined  with  those  from  the  burning  depots,  gave  to  the  scene  an 
aspect  of  wild  and  terrible  sublimity.  Colonel  Morgan  remained 
long  enough  to  see  that  his  purposes  were  fully  executed.  Then, 
mounting  his  horse,  he  dashed  out  of  the  devoted  town,  followed 
by  his  jubilant  command,  and,  lighted  by  the  wild,  red  flames, 
pursued  his  way  to  Springfield. 

Charley  obtained  permission  to  pass  the  night  with  his  aunt, 
Mrs.  Payne,  who  resided  a  few  miles  from  Lebanon.  There  he 
met  with  young  Spalding,  who  had  just  returned  from  Louisville. 

The  two  being  old,  tried' friends,  having  been  educated  together 
at  Bardstown,  were  delighted  to  meet  again.  Spalding,  in  the  in- 
genuousness of  his  soul,  recited  to  Charley  all  the  intelligence  he 
possessed,  giving  a  lengthy  and  most  minute  description  of  the 
elegant  party  at  Mr.  H's.  Most  of  Charley's  friends  had  been 
present  on  that  occasion,  and  the  gay  young  man  deemed  he  could 
select  no  topic  of  equal  interest.  When  he  dwelt  on  the  increas- 
ing devotion  of  Captain  Morton  to  Mary  Lawrence,  arid  the  cer- 
tainty of  their  speedy  marriage,  Charley's  heart  ceased  its  beat- 
ings, his  soul  was  pierced  as  with  barbed  arrows. 

"  And  so  you  think  they  will  be  married.  Ben?"  he  asked,  with 
a  mighty  effort  to  control  himself,  while  he  felt  as  one  who  asked 
for  his  own  death  sentence. 

"No  doubt  of  it,  Charley.  The  city  is  full  of  the  rumor  ;  in- 
deed, it  creates  a  great  deal  of  gossip,  as  Miss  Mary  has  hitherto 
been  considered  unalterably  opposed  to  everything  Federal,  even 
so  stringent  in  her  views,  as  to  seek  the  middle  of  the  street,  rather 
than  walk  under  the  old  flag.  And  then  she  has  a  brother,  John, 
her  only  brother — by-the-by,  is  he  here  with  you  1 — in  the  Confed- 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  141 

erate  service.  Iler  friends  are  astonished  at  her  course,  and  some 
blame  her  in  unsparing  terms.  But  Morton  is  rich,  you  know, 
and  a  very  fascinating  fellow  in  his  manner  ;  but,  in  my  judgment, 
by  no  means  worthy  of  Miss  Lawrence.  You  know  his  habits  are 
very  loose,  and  no  one  gives  him  credit  for  patriotism  in  donning 
the  Yankee  uniform.  He  only  desired  to  be  important,  the  world 
says." 

Charley  made  no  reply  to  the  remarks  of  his  friend.  He  dare 
not  trust  himself  with  words.  The  last  ray  of  hope  was  gone. 
Shipwrecked  on  life's  sea,  he  was  lost,  forever  lost.  The  future 
rayless  darkness  ;  the  present  a  Promethean  fire,  the  past  a  tanta- 
lizing dream.  Deceived,  betrayed,  wrecked  by  the  beautiful  idol 
of  his  soul,  whom  his  pure,  trusting  heart  had  worshipped  'with 
more  than  earthly  devotion,  henceforth  the  world  to  him  must 
prove  a  cold,  barren  waste,  life  a  weary  weight,  which  must  he 
borne  as  the  prisoner  does  his  galling,  clanking  chain. 

In  torturing  thought  the  night  was  spent.  The  following  morn- 
ing found  him  in  the  saddle,  ready  to  start  forward  to  join  the 
command.  He  waited  not  to  bid  adieu  to  his  friends.  He  felt  all 
earthly  ties  snapped  forever.     Henceforth  he  would  court  death. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 


ONWARD      MOVEMENTS. 


Y 


Captain  Jack  Allen  had  been  despatched  from  Barren  River 
with  three  compauies,  to  destroy  the  bridge  over  Salt  River  at 
Shepardsville.  But,  before  reaching  his  destination,  he  was  en- 
countered by  a  force  that  had  been  sent  from  the  Lebanon  Junc- 
tion to  reinforce  Johnston  at  Lebanon.  ,  After  a  sharp  engagement, 
he  was  repulsed  with  the  loss  of  one  man  killed.  He  then  pro- 
ceeded to  Springfield,  where  he  rejoined  Colonel  Morgan,  who  had 
moved  to  this  point  after  the  capture  of  Lebanon.  From  here 
Captain  Allen  advanced  with  a  squad  of  men  to  Taylorsville,  from 
whence  he  sent  forward  a  small  foice  under  Captain  Champ  Fer- 
guson in  the  direction  of  Shelbyville,  in  order  to  menace  Frank- 
fort, thereby  preventing  reinforcements  being  sent  from  this  place 
to  Lexington  or  Paris. 


142  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

And  now  the  question  arose,  "who  should  go."  Here  was  a 
dilemma.  Union  men  were  afraid  to  venture.  Southern  men  said 
it  was  a  matter  of  no  moment  to  them  whether  the  town  was  given 
up  or  not.  They  did  not  fear  John  Morgan  and  his  men,  and  if 
he  choose  to  take  the  place,  they  were  content. 

Finally,  after  much  ado,  a  Southern  man,  who  had  enjoyed  the 
sport  to  bis  greatest  satisfaction,  and  who  felt  his  heart  moved 
with  compassion  for  the  helpless  women  and  children  so  nearly 
dead  with  fright,  consented  to  be  one  of  the  flag-bearers.  But  now 
a  new  difficulty  arose.  The  few  loyal  men  left  did  not  know  how 
to  get  up  a  flag  for  the  occasion.  "  They  wanted  no  mistake 
about  it — Morgan  was  a  terrible  man,  mighty  particular,  and  must 
have  things  done  upon  the  square." 

The  ladies  were  importuned  to  assist  in  finding  a  suitable  em- 
blem of  submission,  and  finally  succeeded  in  procuring  one  that 
satisfied  the  most  faint-hearted  Union  coward. 

Out  went  the  truce-bearers,  followed  by  the  prayers  and  tears  of 
the  anxious  multitude.  On  they  rode,  bearing  high  aloft  their 
immaculate  ensign. 

Pursuing  the  rout  of  the  reported  approach,  they  passed  on, 
mile  after  mile ;  but  no  enemy  appeared.  Strange,  wild  stories 
met  them  at  every  step.  But  nothing  could  be  credited.  Feeing, 
at  last,  that  they  had  pursued  the  fleeing  phantom  far  enough,  they 
wheeled  their  horses  and  galloped  back  to  town  to  relieve  the  fears 
,of  the  friends  who  in  torturing  suspense  awaited  their  return. 

Meanwhile,-  Col.  Morgan  was  quietly  pursing  his  way  through 
Springfield  to  Macksville,  where  he  arrived  late  in  the  evening. — 
Here  he  reste,d  for  a  while,  and  here  was  attacked  by  the  Home 
Guard,  who,  after  the  exchange  of  a  few  shots,  were  routed — not, 
however,  until  they  had  severely  wounded  one  of  his  nien  and 
taken  two  others  prisoners. 

Morgan,  finding  two  of  his  boys  captives  in  the  hands  of  the 
enemy,  determined  not  to  leave  the  place  until  they  were  recov- 
ered. 

Seizing  upon  two  of  the  most  prominent  Union  men  in  the  little 
town,  he  made  it  known  that  they  should  not  be  released  until  his 
men  were  restored.  This  had  the  expected  effect,  and  early  the 
next  morning  the  two  missing  men  found  their  way  to  camp. 

From  Macksville  a  detachment  was  thrown  across  the  country 
to  the  Lebanon  pike,  to  threaten  Danville  from  the  southwest. 

"  This  looks  but  little  like  getting  to  Louisville,"  said  Charley, 
despairingly,  to  Lawrence  and  Brent,  as  the  three  paused  for  a 
few  minutes'  rest  beneath  the  shade  of  an  old.  sycamore  tree  that 
stood  by  the  road  side.  He  sighed  deeply,  while  his  expression 
grew  noticeably  sad. 

"Oh,  don't  be  so  down-hearted,"  remonstrated  Brent.  "Why, 
Charley,  you  have  grown  to  be  the  unhappiest  of  luckless  wights. 
What  has1  wrought  such  a  change  in  you  1     You  were  formerly 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  143 

At  Shelbyville,  when  it  became  known  that  Morgan's  men  were 
in  the  vicinity,  the  wildest  confusion  prevailed.  Here,  as  at  Leba- 
non, the  most  conflicting  rumors  ran  riot  through  the  streets. 

"  Morgan  is  assuredly  marching  on  Shelbyville,"  eried  out  one. 
"  It  is  so,  for  a  reliable  gentleman  has  just  seen  his  men  only  a 
few  miles  from  the   town." 

"  He  is  coming  from  Taylorsville  on  the  Mt.  Eden  road,  and  no 
mistake,"  asserted  another. 

A  few  minutes  more,  and  a  man,  breathless  with  excitement, 
dashed  into  the  town,  declaring  "  he  himself  had  seen  Morgan's 
men,  and  their  horses'  heads  were  set  toward  Shelbyville,  and 
they  would  be  there  in  a  few  minutes — half  hour  at  the  outside." 
This  time  he  was  approaching  from  the  direction  of  Louisville. 

"  He  is  on  his  way  to   Frankfort  and  must  necessarily   pass 
through  here,"  argued  another.     And  thus  it  was  settled,  Shelby-  . 
ville,  per  necessitc,  must  receive  a  visit  from  the  dreaded  chieftain. 

The  funds  were  hastily  extracted  from  the  bank  vault  and  des- 
patched under  strong  escort  to  Louisville.  The  Home  Guard 
were  called  upon  to  defend  the  place.  In  the  most  hurry-skurry 
manner  that  could  be  conceived,  they  hastened  to  arm  themselves, 
and  after  much  more  noise  and  confusion  than  a  skillful  general 
would  have  made  in  preparing  an  army  for  battle,  they  Anally  suc- 
ceeded in  funning  themselves"  into  something  like  an  orderly  line, 
and  stood  prepared  to  meet  the  impending  crisis. 

Men  flocked  to  the  town  to  hear  the  news,  each- one  receiving  a 
different  statement  from  every  informant  he  met.  The  day  wore 
on — every  hour  the  excitement  grew  more  and  more  intense.  And 
by  the  early  evening  it  was  asserted  as  a  fact,  beyond  the  shadow 
of  a  doubt,  that  Morgan,  with  hundreds  of  men,  was  within  a  lew 
miles  of  the  place,  and  would  be  upon  it  directly.  At  this  inielii- 
geuce  the  Home  Guard  suddenly  broke  ranks  and  fled  in  every 
possible  direction,  never  for  a  moment  slackening  their  pace  until 
they  were  assured  that  danger  no  longer  beset  them. 

Henri  F.  Middlelon.  a  most  rabid  Lincolnite,  editor  of  the  town  • 
sheet,  called  the  Weekly  Mews — every  issue  of  which  dealt  out 
the  most  unsparing  abuse  of  the  South  and  all  that  pertained  there- 
to— hastily  gaihered  up  his  family  and  valuables,  and  without 
waiting  to  procure  a  more  suitable  conveyance,  jumped  into  a  fur- 
niture car  with  some  free  darkies,  drove  off  at  lightning  speed,  and 
never  halted  until  lie  was  fifteen  miles  from  the  enemy. 

A  council  was  called  to  see  what  was  best  to  be  done  under  this 
most  alarming  exigency.  The  defenders  of  the  town  had  fled — 
the  editor  wasoff  with  his  valuables,  many  of  the  prominent  Union 
men  of  all  ages  were  gone,  no  one  knew  whither — every  body  was 
panic-stricken.  What  could  be  done  but  surrender  the  place  to 
this  formidable  chieftain  ]  After  much  debate,  it  was  decided  that 
this  should  be  done,  and  two  of  the  council  were  proposed  as  fit 
personages  to  set  out  under  a  flag  of  truce  to  meet  the  dreaded 
hero,  and  tender  hira  possession  of  the  place. 


144  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

full  of -spirits  and  fun,  but  now  you  are  spiritless,  and  full  of  sighs 
and  sorrows.  You  haven't  smiled  half  dozen  times  since  it  was 
known  that  we  were  turning  back  into  Kentucky.  You  must  be 
miserable  at  the  promise  of  getting  home.  Come,  come,  you  must 
rally,  my  friend.  Never  mind  the  sweetheart  now.  We  must  wbip 
the  Yankees  first,  achieve  our  independence,  and  then  woo  and 
win  the  fair  Desdemona.  •  • 

Charley  paled,  then  reddened  at  the  remarks  of  his  friend.  Did 
Brent  know  his  secret  1  How  could  he  have -heard  it  ?  If  not, 
why  should  be  have  spoken  as  he  had  just  done  ?  He  endeavored 
to  reply,  but  could  only  stammer  out  a  few  incoherent  words,  while 
his  color  deepened,  and  his  whole  manner  became  confused. 

"  Caught,  Charley,  caught,  my  boy,"  exclaimed  young  Morgan, 
who,  with  Curd  and  Irving  and  two  others,  had  joined  the  group 
under  the  tree.  "  You  need  not  deny  it.  We  all  see  you  are  in 
love,  and  desperately,  too.  Now  make  a  clean  breast  of  it,  and 
tell  us  all  about  the  fair  one.  We  will  sit  here  on  this  grass  and 
listen  to  your  tale  of  love  and  trial,  and  perhaps  we  will  all  relate 
our  stories." 

"Capital  suggestion.  Cal.  What  say  you,  Charley  ?"  "called 
out  young  Curd,  as  he  dismounted,  and  throwing  his  bridle  rein 
over  his  horse's  neck,  seated  himself  on  a  projecting  root  of  the 
old  tree.  "  I  sympathize  with  you,  Charley,  for  I,  too,  remember 
well  a  dark-eyed  girl  of  Lexington.  Cal,  you  can't  appropriately 
laugh  at  Charley."  You  are  wild  now  to  get  back  to  see  your  lady 
love.     Remember  your  fancies  at  Lebanon." 

"  Come  Ed,  you  are  not  going  to  betray  me.  Don't  you  know 
you  are  strictly  bound  to  keep  my  love  affairs  secret." 

"  Oh,  no  Cal,  I'll  not  betray  you  ;  but  I  have  no  idea  of  laugh- 
ing Charley  out  of  his  spurs,  when  I'd  venture,  if  the  truth  was 
known,  we  are  all  in  the  same  fix." 

"Don't  doubt,"  interposed  Irving.  "I  own  up  to  the  weak- 
ness." 

"Birr,  boys,  you  have  the  advantage  of  Charley  and  myself," 
interposed  Lawrence.  "You  expect  very  soon  to  be  at  home, 
where  you  can  enjoy  the  delectable  society  of  your  lady  loves, 
while  we  have  not  the  most  remote  prospect  of  such  happiness." 
•  "  Oh,  don't  speak  so  discouragingly  of  our  chances,  Lawrence," 
ejaculated  Brent,  rising  from  his  feet.  "  There's  hope  for  us. — 
What  shall  we  do  when  we  get  to  Frankfort,  but  sweep  down  on 
Louisville.  The  good  people  there  will  wake  up  some  morning  to 
the  clatter  of  our  horses'  hoofs,  as  we  dash  along  its  sounding 
streets,  and  the  cry  will  ring  out  from  square  to  square,  '  Louis- 
ville is  fallen  !  Louisville  is  fallen  !  John  Morgan  and  his  men 
have  got  possession  of  us  sinners !'  " 

The  boys  shouted  in  wild  merriment  as  young  Brent  closed  his 
description. 

"  Come,  boys,  dismount  and  refresh  yourselves  in  this  grateful 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  145 

shade.  Why  do  you  set  perched  up  there  on  your  horses  in  that 
burning  sun  ?" 

"  Indeed,  boys,  we  must  hasten  on,"  replied  young  Morgan, 
taking  out  his  watch  and  looking  at  the  hour.  "  You  know  we 
must  pay  our  respects  to  the  Danville  Home  Guard  before  dinner." 

With  jest  and  laughter  the  detachment  of  thirty  sped  along,  lit- 
tle dreaming  of  the  wild  dread  their  approach  was  sending  into 
the  hearts  of  the  good  people  of  Danville. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 


DANVILLE    AND    ITS   DEFENDERS. 


If  the  consternation  of  Lebanon  and  Shelbyville  was  great, 
what  shall  be  said  of  Danville,  that  -seething  cauldron  of  Union- 
ism 1 — the  birthplace  of  Colonel  Smith  Fry,  who,  with  brutal 
coarseness,  boasted  that  "  he  killed  ZoUicqffer  /"  and  of  Gen.  Jere- 
miah S.  Boyle,  who  has  publicly  asserted  that  "he  would  wade 
through  the  blood  of  his  wife  and  children  rather  than  this  rebel- 
lion should  succeed."  Glorious  patriots  !  How  approvingly  hu- 
manity must  laud  your  noble  sentiments. 

Qolonel  Morgan's  deeds  at  Lebanon  had;  reached  the  anxious 
ears  of  the  Danvillians,  and  filled  their  hearts  with  terror.  They 
knew  their  guilt  in  oppressing  the  Southern  men  in  their  midst, 
and  while,  like  the  Babylonian  king,  they  saw  the  hand  writing  on 
the  wall,  fear  seized  their  souls.  There  was  alarm,  anxiety,  con- 
sternation depicted  on  every  face.  Fear  and  confusion  character- 
ized every  movement. 

The  cry  went  out  for  "help,  help!"  The  Captain  of  the 
Guard,  who  lived  two  miles  out  in  the  country,  on  receiving  the 
frightful  news  of  Morgan's  approach,  galloped  into  town  with  all 
the  dignity  befitting  his  position  and  'the  momentous  crisis,  al- 
though it.  required  but  a  glance  to  perceive  that  he  was  quaking 
within.  Runners  were  sent  to  and  fro  to  inform  the  Home  Guard 
to  assemble  immediately. 

The  money  was  taken  from  the  Bank,  deposited  in  an  express 
wagon,  placed  in  charge  of  Mr.  Rice,  a  rabid  old  Unionist,  who, 
mounting  the  seat,  dashed  ofi\  as  fast  as  the  horses  could  go  to- 
wards Lexington,  with  iustruotions  not  to  stop  short  of  Cincinnati, 
10 


146  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE  . 

Ladies  gathered  together  their  silver  and  other  valuables,  and, 
boxing  them  up.xlispatehed  them,  post  haste,  to  a  place  of  safety 
in  the  country.  They  buried  their  linen  and  bedding,  and  bidding 
a  hurried  adieu  to  their  homes,  jumped  into  carriages,  wagons,  and 
every  available  vehicle,  and  left  for  safer  points. 

Old  men,  whose  heads  were  bleached  by  age,  suddenly  fired  with 
patriotism,  seized  their  guns  and  rushed  out  "to  defend  their  homes 
from  the  lawless  invader." 

Some  wag  facetiously  named  the  heroic  band  of  venerable  sires 
"  The  Silver  Grays,"  and  it  was  serio-comic  to  see  them  strutting 
around  armed  cap-a-pie. 

Through  the  desperate  exertions  of  the  bustling  Captain,  mat- 
ters at  last  assumed  somewhat  of  form.  About  sixty  men  were 
assembled,  armed  and  ready  for  the  fray.  Pickets  were  thrown 
forward  on  the  Lebanon,  Perryville  and  Harrodsburg  roads. 

Morgan  was  advancing  upon  the  city, — no  one  knew  from  what 
point.  Here,  as  at  Shelby  ville,  the  wildest  and  most  contradictory 
rumors  filled  the  streets.  Finally,  scouts  were  sent  out  to  as- 
certain the  truth  of  the  matter.  The  one  sent  forward,  on  the 
Lebanon  pike,  came  dashing  into  town  after  a  half  hour,  in  the 
highest  degree  of  excitement,  breathless  with  fear,  his  eyes  start- 
ing from  their  sockets,  and  his  whole  appearance  that  ot  a  mad- 
man. "He  had  seen  Morgan,  no  deubt  about  it,  and  his  men 
covered  the  whole  face  of  the  earth.  No  use  trying  to  hold  the 
town — men  enough  to  take  away  every  house,  not  to  talk  about 
people." 

When  this  most  alarming  intelligence  was  received,  the  town 
became  frantic.  Men  hurried  to  and  fro  as  if  an  evil  deity  had 
imposed  on  them  this  fearful  penance  to  expiate  some  dreadful 
crime.  Women,  pale  with  affright,  dashed  through  their  houses, 
seizing  on  anything  that  met  their  hands,  to  bear  it  off  to  some 
secure  point,  or  stood  hopelessly  despairing  at  front  doors  and 
windows  to  hear  the  latest  news.  Children,  following  the  example 
of  the  men  and  women,  drove  about  like  masqueraders  at  Carnival. 
Hurried  consultations  were  held  at  every  corner  of  the  streets, 
but  no  one  could  tell  what  was  best  to  be  done.  At  length,  after 
much  general  debate,  it  was  decided  to  move  out  the  armed  force 
to  Dix  river  cliffs,  and  there  fortify. 

This  point  was  six  miles  from  the  town,  and  in  a  direction  dia- 
metrically opposite  to  the  one  from  which  Morgan  was  expected. 
Accordingly,  this  gallant  band  of  patriots  darted  out  pell-mell, 
some  mounted,  some  on  foot,  to  begin  their  all-important  work  of 
"fort?ft/i?ig  Danville,"  six  miles  out,  and  fully  twelve  miles  "from 
the  nearest  advance  of  the  enemy. 

During  this  last  scene,  to  the  ludicrousness  of  which  no  language 
could  do  justice,  some  Southern  boys,  who  had  been  hugely  en- 
joying the  flight  of  their  Union  neighbors  throughout  the  day, 
conceived  the  idea  of  heightening  the  effect  of  the  drama. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS 


HEN  147 


Understanding  that  the  "noble  defenders'''  were  to  march  out 
and  begin  active  preparations  for  the  erection  of  suitable  fortifica- 
tions, they  hired  some  negroes  to  follow  after  them  at  rapid  pace 
with  empty  wagons.  Then  setting  out  before  the  armed  heroes, 
the  boys  reached  the  "Cliffs"  first,  and  secreted  themselves  where 
they  could  hear  all  that  passed,  without  being  themselves  ob- 
served. 

On,  amid  the  deepening  twilight,  at  break-neck  speed,  the  brave 
band  moved  towards  the  river,  each  one  discoursing  on  the  mo- 
mentous crisis  that  had  overtaken  them.  Suddenly,  as  they  were 
nearing  their  Thermopylae,  a  strange  and  fearful  sound  met  their 
ears.  What  could  it  l>e  ?  they  asked  each  other  in  breathless 
anxiety.  Were  they  pursued  ?  Was  the  dread  enemy  hard  after 
them  1     It  must  be  so.     Horrid  thought ! 

"  Hist !  Hist,  noys,  be  quiet.  Let  me  listen,"  said  one  of  their 
number — Jack  Webb,  by  name — a  very  important  personage,  in- 
deed, since  he  had  been  at  the  battle  of  Fishing  Creek.  "  I  know 
all  these  war  sounds,  and  can  tell  in  a  minute  the  noise  of  cannons, 
and  horses,  and  infantry,  and  all  such  things.  Stop,  men,  and  be 
right  still,  while  I  listen.  I  can  soon  tell  whether  it  is  the  enemy 
or  not." 

Everything  halted  in  breathless  suspense.  Jack  stooped  down 
and  placed  his  ear  close  to  the  pike.  It  was  a  moment  of  fearful 
expectation. 

"  Can't  tell,  boys,  yet:  Sounds  mighty  like  the  enemy.  Wait 
a  moment,  till  it  comes  a  little  nearer." 

It  was  asking  a  great  deal  of  these  patriots  to  wait,  until  the 
enemv  should  get  a  little  nearer,  but  they  submitted  most  heroic- 
ally. * 

"  You  stop  here,  boys,  and  I'll  go  back  to  the  top  of  the  hill 
yonder.     May  be  I  can  hear  better  there." 

Jack  had  gone  but  a  minute,  when  he  came  rushing  wildly  back, 
crying  out  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  "  Enemy,  boys — flying  artillery 
— enemy  upon  us  fast  as  they  can  dash— no  mistake  ! " 

Just  then  the  report  of  several  pistol  shots  reverberated  along 
the  "  Cliffs,"  to  their  right. 

"  The'enemy  is  upon  us — every  man  look  out  for  himself!  "  was 
the  order  of  the  terrified  Captain. 

In  a  moment  the  men  were  scattered  in  wild  confusion,  each 
one  rushing  for  dear  life  along  the  road  that  led  to  Nicholasville, 
twenty  miles  distant ;  nor  did  they  stop  until  that  point  was  gain- 
ed. Never  was  there  a  more  inglorious  finale  to  warlike  prepara- 
tion for  defence.  Surely  the  bards  of  Danville,  through  all  coming 
time,  will  delight  to  sing,  in  stirring  verse,  the  heroic  deeds  of  her 
brave  defenders. 


148  |  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 


CHAPTER   XXXIII. 


LOOK      AT      LOUISVILLE. 


"Father,  father!  do  see  here!"  exclaimed  Mary  Lawrence, 
eagerly,  as  she  rushed  into  the  breakfast-room,  a  few  mornings 
after  the  party  at  Mr.  H.'s".  Her  face  was  beaming  with  delight. 
The  soft,  auburn  curls  were  thrown  back  from  the  blue-veined 
temples,  her  cheeks  were  of  the  brightest  rose-hul?,  while  her  large, 
blue  eyes  spoke  out  from  their  soft  depths  as  gladly  as  if  the  soul 
within  had  received  a  heavenly  inspiration.  With  her  bright,  airy 
morning-wrapper,  confined  at  the  waist  with  a  simple. sash  of  blue 
ribbon,  floating  out  on  the  breeze  as  she  entered  through  the  open 
door,  she  looked  more  like  a  Hebe  than  a  child  of  human  mould. 
"  Here,  father,  here,  do  read  that,"  and  holding  the  paper  before 
him,  while  she  threw  an  arm  around  his  neck,  she  called  his  atten- 
tion to  an  editorial  paragraph.  Pausing  a  moment  for  the  father 
to  read  the  announcement,  she  exclaimed  :  "  Isn't  that  glorious 
news  1  John  Morgan  coming  into  Kentucky — coming  right  here 
to  Louisville,  and  will  bring  brother  and  all  our  friends  with  him. 
Ob,  I  am  wild  with  delight.  What  a  blissful  time  we  shall 
have ! " 

"But,  perhaps,  Colonel  Morgan  will  not  reach  "Louisville,  my 
child,  even  if  he  should  come  into  the  State." 

"  Oh,  yes,  he  will,  father.  Don't  you  see  old  Prentice  is  scared 
out  of  his  wits,  and  that,  you  know,  is  a  fine  indication.  I  am  sure 
the  Confederates  will  come  to  Louisville!"  And  Mary  clapped 
her  hands  and  commenced  to  waltz  gracefully  round  the  breakfast 
table. 

"  Oh,  my  child,  do  not  grow  too  ecstatic,"  said  the  mother, 
gazing  with  a  look  of  tender,  reproachful  love  upon  her  beautiful 
daughter.  "  It  is  scarcely  possible  that  Col.  Morgan  will  reach 
Louisville.  His  force  cannot  be  sufficient  to  take  the  city  ;  and, 
moreover,  there  is  nothing  here  to  induce  him  to  come.  I  judge 
the  object  of  his  visit, to  our  State  is  to  obtain  recruits  and  horses, 
neither  of  which  he  would  find  here." 

"  An  expression  of  sad  disappointment  in  a  moment  overspread 
the  young  girl's  face  and  manner.  She  threw  herself  into  her  ac- 
customed seat  at  her  mother's  right,  and  supporting  her  head  with 
her  hand,  while  her  elbow  rested  on  the  table,  looked  inquiringly 
into  her  mother's  face.    ' 

Mrs,  Lawrence  was  a  woman  of  most  excellent  judgment,  and 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  149 

her  word  had  ever  been  law  with  her  household,  because  every 
member  of  the  family  daily  felt  her  superior  wisdom  and  justice. 
She  was  one  of  the  loveliest  of  women,  gentle,  kind,  thoughtful, 
and  at  the  same  time  firm,  decided,  even  unyielding  in  a  matter 
of  right.  She  had  been  deeply  pious  from  her  earliest  girlhood, 
and  the  spirit  of  all  grace  in  her  heart  had  moulded  her  manner 
and  expression  of  face  into  sweet  conformity  to  its  own  gentle 
teachings.  She  had  for  a  long  time  been  a  great  sufferer,  her 
bodily  infirmities  increasing  with  each  year,  and  now  she  was  so 
enfeebled,  as  scarcely  to  be  able  to  leave  her  house.  But  while 
thus  slowly  passing  to  the  far  off  land,  'mid  pain  aud  weakness, 
she  grew  day  by  day  strong  in  faith  and  that  abiding  hope  which 
irradiates  with  heavenly  beauty  the  darkest  path  ever  pressed  by 
the  weary  feet  of  the  earth  pilgrim. 

"  Oh,  father,  don't  xjou  think  Colonel  Morgan  will  come  here  ? 
He  has  so  many  Louisville  boys  with  him,  and  then  it  would  be 
such  a  satisfaction  to  us  Southern  people.  He  ought  to  come  to 
release  us  from  bondage,  if  nothing  more.  And  there  is  old  Pren- 
tice. Morgan  ought  to  have  him  and  ride  him  down  to  Dixie.  A 
trip  of  this  kind,  I  am  sure,  would  improve  his  morals.  Don't 
you  think  it  is  possible  that  the  Southerners  may  come  here, 
father  ? " 

"  No,  my  daughter.  You  need  not  revel  in  that  anticipation.  I 
am  convinced  they  will  visit  Central  Kentucky,  remain  there  a 
short  time,  and  then  leave  the  State." 

"  Too  bad — too  bad  !  "  ejaculated  Mary,  as  she  raised  the  cup 
of  coffee  to  her  lips  and  sipped  it.  Placing  it  nervelessly  back  in 
the  saucer,  she  looked  thoughtful  for  a  few  moments,  and  then  her 
face  lighted  up  with  the  new  ideas  that  flashed  through  her  mind, 
and,  smiliug  to  herself,  she  again  sipped  the  coffee,  and,  glancing 
up  at  her  mother,  was  about  to  speak,  when  she  suddenly  checked 
herself,  and  remained  silent. 

The  mother's  sweet,  sad  face  was  very  thoughtful.  Her  heart 
was  with  her  boy.  She  longed  to  see  him  once  more,  before  her 
eyes  should  close  in  death.  She  knew  her  stay  on  earth  must  be 
brief.  That  before  the  flowers  should  fade  and  nature  clothe 
herself  again  in  the  emblems  of  death,  she  might  be  quietly  rest- 
iug  from  her  labors  beueath  the  green  hillock. 

The  father  folded  the  paper,  and  mechanically  placing  it  beside 
him,  tell  into  a  grave,  quiet  mood. 

Tiie  door-bell  rang.  Mary  started  nervously.  The  servant 
entered,  bearing  a  card  from  Captain  Morton,  and  handed  it  to  her 
young  mistress.  It  was  a  request  for  the  pleasure  of  Miss  Law- 
rence's company  for  an  evening  ride.  An  apology  for  the  early 
intrusion  accompanied  the  note.  He  was  going  immediately  to  the 
country,  and  would  not  be  back  until  the  afternoon. 

•'  Bring  me  my  escritoir,  Maria."  The  girl  obeyed  the  bidding. 
The  mother  looked  at  her  daughter  for  an  explanation.    Mary  never 


150  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

bad  any  secrets  from  her  loved  parent — only  one  thing,  her  en- 
gagement with  Charley  R.,  had  she  ever  withheld. 

"  From  Captain  Morton,"  she  answered  to  her  mother's  inter- 
rogatory look.  "  He  wishes  me  to  ride  with  him  this  evening,  at 
five  o'clock." 

"  And  will  you  go  ? " 

"  I  cannot,  mother.  I  have  other  plans."  The  servant  return- 
ed with  the  writing  desk.  Mary  took  from  it  a  card,  penned  a 
delicate  refusal,  and  enveloping  it,-  despatched  it  to  the  servant  in 
waiting  at  the  door. 

"  Mother,"  said  the  young  girl,  breaking  the  silence  that  had 
reigned  for  several  minutes,  "  I  should  like  to  go  to  Frankfort 
this  evening." 

The  mother  looked  up  astonished  at  the  request. 

"  Go  to  Frankfort,  Mary  f  when  that  country  will  be  filled  with 
armed  men  in  conflict." 

"  Ah,  they  will  not  hurt  me,  mother,  I  have  no  fear.  I  wish  so 
much  to  see  brother,  and  I  am  sure  I  shall  do  so,  if  I  can  only  get 
into  Central  Kentucky. 

"Would  you  go  alone,  my  daughter?" 

"  Oh,  no  ;  I  am  sure  cousin  Frank  will  gladly  accompany  me. 
May  I  go  if  he  will  ?  Say,  father,  won't  you  consent  1  You  know 
cousin  will  take  good  care  of  me." 

"  I  don't  know,  Mary,  that  you  will  be  in  any  danger  in  going  to 
Frankfort ;  but  I  do  not  think  you  will  get  to  see  your  brother." 

"But  let  me  go.  May  1,  mother?  What  do  you  say  ?  You 
won't  object,  I  know  ?  " 

"  You  must  first  see  if  your  cousin  Frank  will  go  with  you.  I 
could  not  permit  you  to  set  out  without  him." 

"  Oh,  I  will  go  and  see  him.  I  am  sure  he  will  be  delighted  to 
have  an  opportunity  to  take  a  little  recreation." 

Mary  sprang  from  the  table  and  ran  to  her  own  room,  enthusi- 
astic at  the  thought  of  accomplishing  the  plan  that  had  so  forcibly 
presented  itself  to  her  as  she  sat  tasting  her  coffee. 

In  an  incredibly  short  time  she  was  bonnetted  and  ready  to  set 
out.    As  she  reached  the  door,  she  eucountered  Captain  Morton. 

His  face  was  clouded,  and  his  look  one  of  unusual  sternness. 
Mary  started  back  as  she  beheld  him.  Eecovering  herself,  she 
invited  him  into  the  parlor. 

"  I  wish  to  see  you  for  a  few  minutes  only." 

She  motioned  him  to  the  hall  sofa. 

"  I  called,  Miss  Mary,  to  see  why  you  refused  to  ride  with  me 
this  evening.  It  is  the  first  time,  and  I,  of  course,  felt  surprised." 
He  fixed  a  penetrating  look  upon  her  as  he  spoke. 

Feeling  that  he  had  no  right  to  address  her  thus,  the  young  girl 
straightened  herself  up,  and  with  most  perfect  calmness  replied: 

"  I  have  other  engagements  for  the  evening,  Captain  Morton.  I 
presume  this  explanation  will  suffice,"  and  she  compressed  her 
lips,  and  assumed  an  air  of  hauteur  which  repelled  further  inquiry. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  151 

The  color  rushed  to  the  face  of  the  excited  Captain.  He  was 
foiled.  Seeing  and  fully  appreciating  the  hopelessness  of  any 
further  attempt  to  secure  a  satisfactory  explanation,  he  took  his 
hat  from  the  stand,  and,  bowing  stifly,  left. 

Two  o'clock  came.  The  hour  found  Mary,  escorted  by  "cousin" 
Frank,  at  the  depot,  ready  to  take  the  cars. 

"  Poor  Lu  !  she  will  be  so  sorry  that  she  went  to  visit  her  friends 
in  Ohio,  when  she  hears  that  Morgan  has  been  in  the  State.  She 
set  out  yesterday  morning  for  Cincinnati.  Did  you  see  her, 
Frank  1 " 

"  Only  in  passing." 

"  She  has  not  been  t^see  us,  Frank,  since  the  party  at  Mr.  H.'s. 
I  have  met  her  on  the  street  once  since  then,  and  she  only  bowed 
coldly  and  passed  on.  Something  is  wrong  with  her,  I  am  sure. 
I  intended  to  go  out  to  see  her,  and  ask  her  what  it  is  ;  but  mo- 
ther, you  know,  lias  been  so  feeble  most  of  the  time,  I  did  not  wish 
to  leave  ber.     Ob,  I  am  so  happy  she  is  better  now." 

The  car  whistle  sounded.  Mary  and  her  cousin  entered  and 
Seated  themselves.  A  few  minutes  more,  and  they  were  merrily 
speeding  their  way  to  the  "  City  of  Hills." 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

THE    PANIC    INCREASES. 

Leaving  Macksville  on  Sunday  morning,  Col.  Morgan  pressed 
forward  to  Harrodsburg,  which  point  he  reached  about  noon. 

As  the  column  moved  listlessly  along,  the  Col.  conversing  with 
Captain  Duke  and  Colonel  St.  Leger,  on  their  recent  successes  and 
future  plans,  Morgan's  keen  eye  discerned  in  the  distance  two  sus- 
picious looking  horsemen.  Calling  upon  Capt.  Castleinan,  he  or- 
dered him  to  take  four  men  with  him  and  pursue. 

The  five,  driving  the  rowels  deep  into  the  sides  of  their  horses, 
dashed  forward.  They  had  been  gone  but  a  short  time  before 
they  were  seen  returning,  bearing  with  them  as  prisoners  a  Federal 
Captain  and  a  Lieutenant. 

On  reaching  Harrodsburg,  Colonel  Morgan  found  that  the  Home 
Guard  from  all  that  section  of  the  country  bad  fled  to  Lexington. 
Receiving  no  encouragement  from  the  citizens  to  protect  them, 
and  deeming  their  own  personal  safety  could  be  far  better  secured 


152  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

by  flight  than  fight,  they  precipitately  set  off  at  the  first  note  of 
alarm. 

The  whole  population  of  the  town  turned  out  to  welcome  Mor- 
gan and  his  gallant  men.  Ladies  and  children  appeared  on  the 
streets  to  hail  them  as  friends.  Handkerchiefs  were  waved  from 
every  window,  and  boquets  arranged  with  artistic  taste,  were 
showered  upon  their  passing  ranks.  Smiles,  cheers  and  pleasant 
words  met  them  everywhere. 

Gaining  the  public  square,  Col.  Morgan  ordered  his  men  to  halt 
and  alight.  In  a  moment  the  boys  were  surrounded  by  men,  wo- 
men and  children,  eager  to  shake  their  hands  and  present  them 
with  every  token  of  sympathy  and  respect. 

The  few  Union  individuals  iu  the  town,  whether  from  policy  or 
admiration,  vied  with  their  neighbors  in  acts  of  kindness  and  re- 
gard. 

The  scene  was  like  a  grand  holyday  occasion,  where  every  one, 
happy  himself,  felt  it  a  pleasure  to  contribute  t<J  the  happiness  of 
every  one  he  met. 

The  men  were  invited  into  private  hous#s  to  dine,  and  when  they 
refused,  because  of  their  dusty  and  neglected  appearance,  baskets, 
laden  with  the  nicest  edibles,  were  sent  out  in  the  greatest  profu- 
sion. There  was  scarce  a  housekeeper  in  all  the  town  who  did  not 
that  day  prepare  some  dainty  for  "Morgan's  men."  And  an 
old  Union  man,  who  had  hitherto  trembled  at  the  very  name  of 
Morgan,  provided  himself  with  a  basket  of  the  best  his  wife's  pan- 
try could  afford,  went  in  person  to  present  it  to  the  dreaded  chief- 
tain, who  received  it  with  such  a  pleasant  smile  and  polite  bow,  as 
completely  won  the  life-long  admiration  of  old  Mr.  Savant. 

After  havmg  partaken  of  the  kindly  cheer  of  the  good  people  of 
Harrodsburg,  Colonel  Morgan  set  out  for  Lawrenceburg,  twenty 
miles  distant.  In  the  meantime  he  had  sent  forward  a  detachment 
to  threaten  Frankfort  on  the  left  and  another  to  menace  Mcholas- 
ville  on  the  right.  , 

The  whole  country  was  in  an  uproar — Frankfort,  Lexington, 
Nicholasville,  Lawrenceburg,  Versailles,  were  all  seriously  threat- 
ened. The  Home  Guard  had  fled  in  the  wildest  confusion  from  the 
minor  towns,  and  concentrated  in  Lexington  and  Frankfort.  At 
the  latter  point  there  was  assembled  a  force  of  about  three  thou- 
sand Home  Guard  and  regular  troops.  Nicholasville  and  Ver- 
sailles were  deserted.  The  shops  we?e  all  closed,  and  the  citizens 
awaited  in  anxious  suspense  the  approach  of  the  formidable  column. 

In  Lexington  the  scene  was  widely  different.  Dispatches  hadt 
been  sent  to  Cincinnati  for  troops  to  assist  in  defending  the  place. 
■All  business  was  suspended — the  stores  shut  up.  Persons  might 
be  seen  hurrying  to  and  fro  through  the  streets,  as  if  bestirred  by 
the  fearful  voice  of  an  earthquake.  Martial  law  was  proclaimed, 
and  every  man  found  on  the  street  was  immediately  placed  under 
arms. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  153 

It  was^more  than  a  man's  life  was  worth  to  whisper  the  name  of 
Morgan.  A  citizen's  guard  was  organized,  and  authorized  to  ar- 
rest or  shoot  down  any  man  found  unarmed  in  the  streets,  so  eager 
was  their  thirst  for  the  hlood  of  Southern  sympathizers. 

Various  rumors,  wholly  conflicting  with  each  other,  were  caught 
up  and  repeated  at  every  corner  by  men  whose  patriotism  mani- 
fested itself  alone  in  curiosity  and  excitement. 

"  Morgan  was  at  Midway.  Morgan  was  at  Nicholasville.  Mor- 
gan was  approaching  the  town  from  Versailles.  Morgan  was  en- 
tering from  Harrodsburg.  Morgan  was  within  six  miles  of  the  city 
with  ten  thousand  men." 

Then  came  the  thrilling  tidings  that  the  fight  had  commenced 
at  Frankfort.  What  should  be  done  ?  Could  troops  be  spared  for 
poor  besieged  Frankfort  1  If  men  were  sent  might  not  the  ubi- 
quitous Morgan  suddenly  swoop  down  upon  Lexington  ?  The 
Eighty-Fifth  Ohio,  under  Colonel  Sowers,  had  just  reached  the  city 
from  Camp  Chase.  It  was  decided  to  dispatch  this  regiment  to 
the  relief  of  Frankfort.  But  one  company  mutinied  outright.  It 
was  more  than  they  had  bargained  for.  They  bad  set  out  for  Lex-' 
ington,  and  would  not  go  a  mile  further.  The  officers  took  the 
matter  in  hand,  and  after  some  coaxing,  mixed  with  threats  and 
curses,  they  succeeded  in  bringing  the  men  to  the  point  of  acquies- 
cence, and  off  the  troops  set,  at  railroad  dash,  for  Frankfort. 

All  these  movements  being  made  known  by  telegraph  in  Louis- 
ville, and  that  great  city  was  thrown  into  a  state  of  the  most  ludic- 
rous confusion.  Troops  were  ordered  over  from  Jeffersonville ; 
regiments  were  recalled  from  the  Nashville  road ;  bank  vaults  were 
robbed  of  their  contents,  which  were  inclosed  in  strong  boxes  for 
ready  shipment  across* the  river.  Drays  were  kept  in  readiness 
for  this  purpose  before  the  bank  doors.  The  greater  portion  of  the 
type  of  the  daily  press  was  packed  up  and  landed  safely  on  Indi- 
ana soil.  Armed  men  were  rushing  about,  seemingly  with  no  other 
object  in  view  than  so  scare  timid  men  and  women  out  of  their 
senses.  Forces  were  hastened  to  the  Lexington  depot,  but  scarce- 
ly had  they  reached  there  before  the  order  was  countermanded,  and 
they  were  marched  back  again.  Headquarters  were  besieged  by 
crowds  of  pale  and  anxious  citizens,  eager  to  catch  one  item  of 
reliable  information.  The  streets  were  literally  blockaded  by  the 
rushing  mass,  all  on  the  qui  viva  for  intelligence  from  Morgan. 

Cavalry  from  Nashville  dashed  through  the  crowded  streets, 
their  headlong  jpeed  and  clanging  swords  adding  to  the  already 
wild  furore. 

News  came  that  Morgan  was  at  Shelbyville,  and  would  be  at 
Louisville  that  night.  Then  ran  along  the  seething  multitude  the 
rumor  that  martial  law  had  been  proclaimed,  and  every  man  ca- 
pable of  bearing  arms  was  to  be  called  out  in  defence  of  the  city. 
This  soon  silenced  to  a  great  extent  the  crowded  streets.  Many 
of  the  Union  patriots  were  unwilling  to  risk  themselves  in  the  pre- 


154  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

sence  of  Confederate  bullets  and  deemed  it  more  prudent  to  retire 
to  their  own  peaceful  dwellings  and  there  keep  as  quiet  as  their 
excited  nerves  would  permit  them  to  do. 

During  the  grand  melee  Southern  sympathizers  looked  on  at  the 
farce  with  inward  satisfaction.  They  did  not  for  a  moment  believe 
that  Morgan  would  attack  the  city,  but  they  were  quite  willing 
that  their  Union  friends  should  think  so. 

While  this  fearful  panic  was  shaking  Louisville,  Frankfort  and 
Lexington  to  their  centre,  giving  rise  to  numerous  ridiculous  scenes, 
Colonel  Morgan  was  quietly  pursuing  his  way  as  we  have  said  from 
Macksville,  through  Harrodsburg  to  Lawrenceburg. 

Reaching  this  latter  place  Sunday  night,  Morgan  remained  until 
his  scouts  came  in  from  Frankfort  and  other  points.  He  then  pro- 
ceeded to  Versailles,  crossing  the  Kentucky  river  at  Shyrock's  fer- 
ry. Here  he  found  the  boat  sunken  in  the  stream  by  the  Home 
Guard  as  they  moved  on  in  their  ignominious  flight  to  Lexington. 

About  sunset  on  Monday  evening  Col.  Morgan  at  the  head  of  his 
command,  entered  the  streets  of  Versailles  twelve  miles  distant 
from  Lexington  and  about  as  far  from  Georgetown. 

"  Here  boys  is  a  rich  prize,"  said  the  Colonel  to  his  men,  as 
dashing  along  the  street  he  discovered  about  three  hundred  horses 
and  mules  belonging  to  the  Federal  Government.  "  If  any  of  you 
have  sorry  horses,  here  is  a  fine  opportunity  to  exchange  them  for 
better  ones.  Help  yourselves.  Uncle  Sam  will  not  dare  to  enter 
a  protest,  I  presume." 

The  little  band  was  now  situated  in  the  midst  of  the  enemy. 
At  Lexington,  on  their  immediate  right,  and  only  twelve  miles  dis- 
tant, there  was  a  considerable  force  under  the  commandant  of  the 
post,  Brigadier  General  Ward.  At  Frankfort,  about  equi-distant 
on  their  left,  were  three  times  their  number  of  men,  some  of  them 
regular  troops.  Either  point  could  be  reinforced. in  a  few  hours 
warning. 

Colonel  Morgan  fully  appreciated  the  danger.  He  ordered  pick- 
ets thrown  out  on  every  outlet  from  the  town,  and  commanded  that 
his  men  should  hold  themselves  in  readiness  for  attack  at  any  mo- 
ment. The  men  sat  sleeping  on  the  pavements,  their  bridles  rest- 
ing in  their  hand,  their  arms  beside  them,  ready  al^  a  moment's 
warning  to  mount  and  meet  the  foe.  But  no  foe  came.  He  was 
glad  enough  to  be  left  to  act  on  the  defensive. 

At  dawn  on  the  following  morning,  the  command  was  ordered 
to  be  ready  in  an  hour  to  set  out  for  some  other  point.  Promptly 
the  command  was  obeyed,  and  as  the  sun,  climbing  up  the  sides  of 
the  morning,  threw  bis  first  beams  over  the  summer's  landscape, 
the  whole  force  set  out  at  a  brisk  pace  for  their  unknown  destina- 
tion. The  Lexington  boys  hoped  to  be  led  to  their  homes  and 
friends;  the  Louisville  boys  turned  their  anxious,  longing  thoughts 
toward  that  city. 

"Not  to  Lexington  to-day,  boys,"  said  Captain  Castleman,  with 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  155 

a  sigh,  as  the  column  advanced  along  the  road  leading  to  Midway. 
"  But,  I  do  hope,  we  shall  yet  have  an  opportunity  to  look  in  on 
our  friends' and  sweethearts  before  we  leave  this  part  of  the 
State." 

"Really,  it  doesn't  look  much  as  if  we  shall,  Castel man,"  re- 
plied Irving.  "  For  my  parr,  I  think  I  shall  don  my  '  Lincoln 
blue,"  and  try  my  hand  at  deceiving  the  Yankee  pickets.  What 
say  you,  Curd  and  Morgan  ?  Wouldn't  you  venture  this  much  to 
see  those  loveiy  girls  you  were  speaking  of  a  day  or  two  ago  ?" 

"Aye,  and  more  than  this,  Irving,  for  the  accomplishment  of 
an  object  so  desirable.  Just  insure  us  we  shall  see  these  angelic 
beings,  and  get  back  with  whole  bones,  and  we'll  risk  everything. 
Won't  we,  Cal  ?" 

■  "  Anything,  Curd,  short  of  grim  death  itself,"  responded  young 
Morgan. 

"  But,  Morgan,  how  is  it " 

"Halt!"  rang  along  the  line,  suddenly  breaking  in  upon  the 
young  men's  fancies  and  earnest  conversation. 

"  Morgan  !"  called  out  an  aid,  dashing  to  the  rear.  "  Thu  Col- 
onel wants  his  brother  forward  immediately." 

The  column  was  rapidly  nearing  the  Lexington  and  Louisville 
railroad.  Colonel  Morgan  had  been  informed  that  the  train  from 
Frankfort,  having  on  board  two  regiments  of  Federals,  would  be 
due  in  a  few  minutes,  and  he  determined  to  securest. 

Accordingly,  he  dispatched  a  squad  of  men  to  tear  up  the  track 
in  front,  and  another  force  was  ordered  to  look  to  their  guns  and  sta- 
tion themselves  in  position  on  either  side  of  the  road,  while  yet 
another  company  was  given  charge  of  the  howitzers,  which  were 
so  placed  as  to  fully  command  the  road  at  the  point  where  it  was 
supposed  the  cars  would  stop. 

Colonel  Morgan,  with  his  operator,  Mr.  Ellsworth,  repaired  to 
the  telegraph  office,  and  took  possession.  They  had  been  but  a 
few  minutes  there,  when  a  telegram  from  Lexington  came  flashing 
along  the  wires. 

"  Is  it  safe  to  start  the  train  from  Lexington  1  We  hear  Mor- 
gan is  on  the  road." 

"  All  safe — let  the  train  come,"  was  Ellsworth  answer. 

Immediately  preparations  were  made  to  give  the  train  due  re- 
ception. Breathlessly  the  men  waited.  Drawn  up  in  line  of  bat- 
tle for  one  hour,  they  stood  momentarily  expecting  the  prize.  But 
the  alarm  had  been  given,  and  the  trains  retraced  their  steps  in 
hot  haste — one  to  Lexington,  the  other  to  Frankfort. 

Being  convinced  that  the  enemy  had  been  warned,  and  that 
nothing  could  be  gained  by  longer  delay,  Col.  Morgan  moved  on 
towards  Georgetown.  As  he  neared  the  town,  he  was  informed 
that  some  Home  Guard  had  assembled  to  dispute  his  entrance. — 
He  halted  and  sent  in  a  demand  for  surrender.  But  no  where 
were  armed  men  to  be  found.  Like  their  co-patriots  of  other 
places,  they  had  precipitably  fled  to  Lexington  for  safety. 


1-56  RAIDS  AND. ROMANCE 

At  Georgetown,  as  in  Harrodsburg,  shouts  of  welcome  greeted 
the  approach  of  the  Confederates.  Every  preparation  was  made 
by  the  citizens  to  entertain  them  in  a  manner  worthy  of  their 
chivalrous  deeds  and  gallant  daring. 

All  knew  and  appreciated  the  brilliant  record  these  noble  men 
had  made  in  defence  of  liberty  and  right,  and  they  dared  to  mani- 
i  fest  their  approbation,  though  it  might  cost  them  their  freedom 
and  property. 

Union  men  were  everywhere  left  unmolested.  Many  had  fled, 
leaving  their  families  behind  them.  Some  remained,  willing  to 
trust  the  magnanimity  of  Cql.  Morgan,  whose  conduct  on  all  oc- 
casions had  taught  them  that  they  had  nothing  to  fear  at  hands  of 
Kentucky's  noble  son. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 


UNEXPECTED     HAPPINESS. 

As  the  troops  were  passing  in  column  along  the  main  street  of 
the  town,  amid  the  glad  cheers  of  the  ladies  and  children  who 
everywhere  thronged  the  pavement,  Charley's  attention  was  sud- 
denly arrested  by  hearing  his  name  pronounced,  in  soft,  clear  tones. 

He  looked  in  the  direction  from  .whence  the  sound  proceeded, 
and  discovered  a  group  of  females  standing  on  the  front  balcony 
of  one  of  the  houses  to  his  right.  One  was  slightly  in  advance  of 
the  others,  leaning  over  the  banister  and  waving  a  handkerchief  to 
the  soldiers  as  they  riled  slowly  along. 

She  was  dressed  in  a  simple  white  muslin,  confined  at  the  waist 
by  a  long  sash  of  blue  ribbon.  A  wreath  of  natural  flowers  gar- 
landed her  soft  auburn  curls. 

Charley's  heart  stood  still  as  his  eye  rested  on  this  beautiful 
female  figure,  so  like  that  of  Mary.  Bending  forward,  he  gazed 
earnestly  upon  it.  His  eyes  dilated  to  their  fullest  extent,  and 
his  lips  paled  with  fearful  anxiety.  Could  it  be  Mary  1  Ah,  no — 
it  was  impossible.  Surely  he  was  mistaken!  And  yet  so  like — 
that  form,  those  curls,  that  sweet,  glad  face.  It  must  be — and  yet 
how  was  it  possible!  He  gazed,  and  gazed,  as  one  bewildered  by 
some  bright  fascinating  object  which  he  could  not  comprehend,  and 
yet  from  which  he  dare  not  turn. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  157 

"  Charley,  Charley!  don't  you  know  me]"  spoke  the  same 
sweet  tones. 

Ah,  that  voice — he  could  not  mistake  it.  It  must  be  Mary.  It 
could  be  none  other. 

His  first  impulse  was  to  spring  from  his  horse  and  clasp  her  to 
his  bosom — his  heart's  own  idol,  the  day-star  of  his  destiny.  But, 
with  more  than  rush  of  Alpine  torrent,  came  the  frantic  thought, 
"Perhaps  she  is  already  another's!"  and,  turning  in  his  saddle, 
without  even  a  bow  or  look  of  recognition,  he  passed  on. 

Ah,  the  anguish  of  that  moment !  What  words  can  portray  it? 
The  hopelessness  of  despair  crushes  the  human  heart,  and  wraps 
in  rayless  gloom  our  human  life  ;  we  sink — we  fall — prostrate  we 
lie  bleeding — but,  ah,  can  the  sufferer  tell  you  what  he  feels  ?  No 
human  utterances  can  describe  the  weight  of  unutterable  woe  that 
chains  the  victim  down  to  misery  worse  than  death  itself. 

An  may  be  imagined,  our  young  hero  knew  but  little  of  what 
transpired  after  this.  What  to  him  was  the  gay  pageant,  the  loud 
acclaim  of  the  joyous  multitude?  What  to  him  that  men,  im- 
pelled by  admiration  for  all  that  ennobles  our  nature,  all  that  elicits 
true  and  undying  praise,  were  now  regarding  him  as  hero,  deliv- 
erer? No  eulogy,  not  the  battle-trump  could  have  aroused  him 
from  his  deep,  dull  apathy.  He  moved  amid  the  living  throng  in- 
sensate to  its  tumultuous  applause. 

An  hour  later,  and  Charley  lay  outstretched  on  the  college 
green  as  one  haunted  by  a  strange,  wild  dream.  He  looked  out 
on  the  beautiful  town  spread  out  before  him ;  on  the  clear,  smiling 
sky  above,  and  then  away  on  the  charming  landscape,  bounded  by 
its  margin  of  green  woodland  that  encircled  the  village.  But.  none 
of  these  things  gave  him  pleasure,  or  abated  for  a  moment  his 
deep,  mental  suffering. 

'•  Come,  Charley,  come;  what  are  you  doing  here?  You  look 
more  dead  than  alive,  my  boy.  What's  the  matter  with  you? 
Get  up,  get  up.  Mary  says  she  wauts  to  see  you,  as  soon  as  you 
can  get  there." 

Charley  gazed  with  an  expression  of  perplexed  inquiry  up  into 
his  friend's  face,  as  if  he  did  not  fully  comprehend  the  meaning  of 
his  words. 

"Wants  to  see  me,  John  ?  Are  you  not  mistaken?"  Then, 
pausiug  a  moment,  he  asked  slowly,  "  Is  your  sister  married  ?" 

"  Married,  Charley  !"  and  John  burst  into  a  loud  laugh.  "  Pre- 
posterous, boy  !  You  are  certainly  crazy.  Here  let  me  feel  your 
pulse  and  forehead.  You  must  have  brain  fever  from  your  appear- 
ance. This  July  .sun  has  been  too  hot  for  you.  Come,  get  up, 
and  take  a  refreshing  bath  at  that  spring  yonder,  and  prepare  as 
fast  as  you  can  to  accompany  me  to  see  two  of  the  most  charming 
girls  in  the  world."  , 

Charley  looked  up  again  into  the  face  of  his  friend  with  an  ex- 
pression of  doubt  and  anxious  inquiry.    He  made  no  effort  to  arise^ 


]53  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

"  You  are  too  weary  to  go,  Charley.  I  will  excuse  you  to  Mary; 
but  I  know  she  will  be  sorely  disappointed  in  not  seeing  you." 

"  Do  you  really  think  so,  John  1  Don't  deceive  me,"  said 'Char- 
ley,  springing  up  as  if  animated  by  a  new  life.  "  I  had  thought 
your  sister  was  engaged  to  be  married,  and  would  not  care  to  see 
an  old  friend." 

"  Engaged  to  be  married  to  whom  ]"  exclaimed  the  brother,  in 
astonishment. 

"To  Fred.  Morton." 

"  Fred.  Morton,  Charley !  that  Lincoln  sycophant.  Do  you 
think  Mary  Lawrence  would  thus  disgrace  ber  brother  1  Ah,  I 
understand  it  all ;  yes — yes,"  and  young  Lawrence  shook  his  head 
knowingly;  "it's  ail  plain  to  me  now.  But  we  won't  stop  to  dis- 
cuss this  subject  my  boy.  Rest  assured  Mary  wishes  to  see  you-— 
and  I  am  sure  she  will  never  marry  Fred.  Morton.  Come,  we 
have  no  time  to  lose.     Time  is  fleeing,  and  the  girls  await  us." 

Charley  could  not  divest  himself  of  the  sad  apprehension  that, 
deepening  into  conviction,  had  so  long  hung  like  a  death-pall' over 
his  soul.  And  yet,  with  that  readiness  to  seize  upon  the  faintest 
promise  of  good,  so  inherent  in  the  young  heart,  he  suffered  him- 
self to  hope  that  his  friend's  words  were  true,  and  that  Mary 
might »yet  prove  true. 

Hastening  to  improve  his  friend's  suggestions,  he  was  soon 
transformed  in  appearance,  and  ready  to  set  out  to  meet  Mary  at 
the  residence  of  Mr.  Johnson,  whose  daughters  had  been  her 
school  mates  and  intimate  associates.  With  trembling  footsteps, 
and  with  conflicting  emotions  and  thoughts  filling  his  bosom  and 
racking  his  brain,  he  ascended  the  steps  of  the  front  balcony  and 
stood  before  the  door. 

Wbat  years  of  dread  and  misgiving  he  lived  in  the  few  moments 
that  intervened  between  the  ringing  of  the  door  bell  and  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  servant  to  usher  them  into  the  parlor  1  Charley 
deposited  his  cap  on  the  hat  rack  in  the  hall,  and  followed  his 
friend  to  the  room.  There,  on  the  divan  before  him,  sat  Mary, 
more  beautiful  than  Peri  of  ancient  Persee  faith.  She  was  robed 
in  a  simple  dress  of  white  muslin,  with  a  chaplet  of  roses  and 
myrtle  encircling  her  brow.  As  Charley  entered  the  room,  she 
sprang  forward  with  all  the  love-look  of  old,  heightened  and  in- 
tensified by  the  joy  of  meeting. 

The  lover's  doubts  and  fears  were  gone.  It  was  the  Mary  of 
yore,  the  idol  of  his  heart,  that  stood  in  her  purity  and  loveliness, 
before  him.  He  could  not  be  deceived.  She  was  true  to  him — 
faithful  and  constant  as  when  they  two  had  sat  together  beneath 
the  old  elm  tree,  and  plighted  their  vows.  The  shadows  suddenly 
lifted  fronrhis  heart — his  doubts  and  dread  were  gone — his  fear- 
ful apprehensions  forever  dead. 

His  whole  frame  trembled  with  the  intensity  of  his  feelings. 
Happiness,  such  as  the  beings  of  a  higher  and  brighter  abode  ex» 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  J  59 

perience,  thrilled  his  soul,  and  awakened  therein  the  most  rap- 
turous delight. 

How  deeply  he  upbraided  himself,  as  he  sat  beside  her  and 
gazed  into  that  beautiful  face,  and  felt  his  whole  being  stirred  by 
the  soft,  sweet  tones  of  that  gentle  voice,  that  he  had  ever,  even 
for  a  moment,  indulged  a  suspicion  of  her  truth.  He  wondered  at 
himself  to  think  that  he  should  have  credited  idle  rumors,  when 
he  had  received  from  her  whom  he  had  known  from  childhood, 
vows  of  eternal  faith. 

An  hour  later,  and  the  lovers  sat  on  the  balcony,  in  the  soft 
moonlight.  Never  were  there  two  happier  hearts.  Not  a  shade 
intervened  to  cloud  their  joy.  Mary  had  fully  explained  why  it 
was  she  had  received  the  attentions  of  Fred.  Morton,  the  Federal 
Captain.  Their  mothers  had  been  intimate  friends  from  girlhood! 
The  young  man  was  the  nephew  of  her  mother's  physician,  to 
whose  solicitous  care  and  tender  watching  she  believed  she  owed 
possession  of  that  inestimable  bpon,  a  mothers  love.  And,  in  ad- 
dition to  this,  Mr.  Morton,  the  father,  had  kindly  aided  her  father 
at  a  time  when,  but  for  his  opportune  assistance,  he  would  have 
failed  in  business  and  been  hopelessly  ruined. 

"  I  never  loved  Fred.  Morton.  Charley,  you  know  this  ;  but  I 
have  known  him  ever  since  I  knew  any  one,  and  the  considerations 
1  have  mentioned  I  deemed  sufficiently  binding  upon  me  to  compel 
me  to  courtesy  in  my  demeanor  towards  the  young  gentleman.  I 
know  what  the  world  said.  I  know  my  friends  censured  me.  Your 
sister,  Charley,  whom  I  have  ever  loved  as  my  sister,  turns  coldly 
from  me.  Often  has  my  heart  bled,  often  have  I  wept  at  being 
thus  situated.  But  I  did  what  I  was  convinced  was  my  duty. 
But  had  I  known — had  I  thought  it  possible  that  you,  Charley, 
would  have  distrusted  me  for  a  moment,  I  would  have  hazarde d 
all  old  family  friendships,  and  rejected  the  attentions  of  Captain 
Morton.  But  I  did  not  dream  that  you,  Charley,  could  ever  have 
cherished  a  doubt  of  me.  You  who  have  known  me  so  long  and 
so  well,  to  whom  I  have  ever  shown  kindness  and  truth." 

The  large  tears  that  had  been  gathering  in  the  liquid  depths  of 
those  soft,  blue  eyes,  rolled  down  the  burning  cheek  and  choked 
the  young  girl's  utterance. 

"Forgive  me,  Mary  ;  forgive  me  that  I  have  thus  sinned  against 
you,"  and  Charley  knelt  before  her,  and  clasped  the  soft,  dimpled 
hand  in  his,  while  his  broken  words  full  well  attested  the  strength 
of  his  emotions.  "I  have  wronged  you,  my  angel — my  life.  Have 
doubted  you,  when  I  should  have  hurled  from  me  the  vile  slanders 
on  your  pure  fidelity, — have  blamed  you,  when  I  should  have 
loved.  Forgive  me,  Mary — oh,  forgive  me  my  folly,  and  remem- 
ber not  against  me  this  horrid,  weakness,  this  irreparable  guilt." 

The  fast- flowing  tears  fell  on  his  hand.  He  had  but  to  read  the 
sweet  words  of  full  forgiveness  in  that  tear-dewed  face,  as  the 
moonlight  revealed  it  in  all  its  living  beauty. 


160  •  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

He  clasped  her  in  his  arms,  and  pressed  his  lips  to  her  flushing 
cheek. 

They  were  reconciled,  forever  reconciled — full  atonement  had . 
been  made,  and  thenceforth  there  should  never  arise  one  thought 
to  mar  their  perfect  love.  So  felt  these  two  young  hearts,  as  they 
sat  there  wrapt  in  the  bliss  of  confidence  restored,  of  forgiveness 
granted.  Ah,  alas  !  how  poorly  did  they  understand  their  own 
hearts — how  little  appreciate  the  influences  of  time  and  circum- 
stances. Tbey  forgot,  while  plucking  the  fair  and  blooming  flow- 
ers of  Eden,  that  "  the  trail  of  the  serpent  is  over  it  all." 

For  several  moments  both  were  silent.  Each  bosom  was  too 
filled  with  bliss  to  find  language. 

"  But  you  did  not  tell  me,  Mary,  how  you  chanced  to  be  here  in 
this  little  country  town,"  said  Charley,  breaking  the  stillness. 

"  Why,  in  this  wise,  Charley,"  she  replied,  something  of  her 
wonted  vivacity  speaking  out  in  look  and  gesture.  "  Convinced 
by  father's  arguments  that  it  would  be  wholly  impossible  for  Col. 
Morgan .  to  reach  Louisville,  I  importuned  mother  to  permit  me 
to  come  to  Frankfort,  under  the  protection  of  my  cousin.  She 
consented.  When  we  reached  Frankfort,  we  were  persuaded,  from 
the  information  we  received  there  from  Southern  men,  that  you 
would  certainly  pass  through  this  place,  and  cousin  Frank  took  a 
carriage  and  brought  me  here." 

"  And  where  is  he  to-night,  Mary  1 " 

"  Oh,  you  know  he  has  a  sweetheart  out  in.  the  country,  about 
three  miles  from  town.  Notwithstanding  we  were  hourly  expect- 
ing you,  he  could  not  resist  the  magnet,  and  he  is  now  with  Miss 
Appleton.     I  look  for  him  back  every  moment." 

"  I  thank  God  that  we  have  met  once  more,  Mary.  Oh,  you 
cannot  tell  what  unutterable  anguish  I  have  endured  under  the 
belief  that  another  had  won  from  me  that  love  which  I  hold  as 
above  life  itself.  I  have  told  you  of  Mary  Brent's  letter  to  her 
brother.  This  was  the  first  intimation  I  received  of  the  attentions 
of  Captain  Morton,  and  the  subsequent  rumor  that  you  were  to 
marry  him.  It  came  with  such  assurance  of  its  truth,  that  I  could 
not — pardon  me,  Mary,  I  did  you  a  great  wrong,  I  know — could 
not  doubt  it.  Love  is  jealous,  you  know,  Mary,  and  the  thought 
of  another,  a  hated  rival,  coming  in  between  me  and  the  heing  of 
all  others  to  me  most  dear,  drove  me  to  distraction.  I  sank  as 
one  suddenly  overtaken  by  a  fearful  disease,  life  lost  all  charms  to 
me.  I  wandered  as  one  demented,  pursued  by  an  evil  spirit.  The 
prospect  of  return  to  Kentucky. gave  me  no  joy,  no  hope.  It  was 
like  saying  to  the  criminal — come,  walk  and  take  the  fresh  air, 
we  will  go  by  the  gallows  whereon  you  must  be  executed  on  the 
morrow.  I  came,  because  it  was  unavoidable.  When  I  reached 
Lebanon,  Ben.  Spalding,  all  unconscious  that  he  was  thrusting 
poisoned  barbs  into  my  very  soul,  repeated  to  me  the  rumor,  as- 
serting on  his  own  knowledge  its  truthfulness.     I  rose,  dressed 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HLS  MEN.  161 

myself,  and  fled  the  house,  unable  to  rest  a  moment  longer  beneath 
a  roof  where  I  had  endured  such  agony  of  mind.  And  when,  three 
hours  ago,  I  saw  you  standing  on  this  balcony,  and  heard  you  call 
my  name,  I  looked  coldly,  distractedly  upon  you,  and  said  to  my- 
self, '  What  is  she  to  me  ?  Even  while  I  behold  her,  another  may 
call  her  his  own,'  and  I  resolved  to  die.  I  felt  that  I  could  not 
bear  the  insupportable  burden  of  an  existence  that  had  been  for- 
ever robbed  of  its  light  and.joy.  But,  thank  God,  I  now  know  that 
you  are  mine  ;  that  no  image  of  another  has  ever,  even  for  a  mo- 
ment, enshrined  itself  in  the  temple  of  your  affections.  And  now, 
Mary,  I  again  beseech  you  to  forgive  and  forget  this  deep,  un- 
founded wrong  done  you  by  my  black,  my  infamous,  suspicions. 
God  forgive  me,  Mary,  I  feel  that  I  have  sinned  against  heaven, 
in  thus  sinning  against  you  !  " 

"  Forgive  you,  Charley  ?  My  heart  tells  me  that  I  should  ra- 
ther plead  with  you  for  forgiveness.  I  now  see,  that  while  doing 
what  I  believed  to  be  a  right, — I  did  all  unnecessarily,  it  is  true, 
but,  nevertheless,  did  surely  lay  the  foundation  of  all  your  unhap- 
piness.  I  have  learned  a  lesson  sad  and  deep,  which  no  coming 
time  shall  ever  wear  out  from  my  heart." 

She  paused  and  looked  up  into  Charley's  face  with  an  expres- 
sion so  pleading,  so  full  of  tenderness  and  truth,  that — soldier  as 
he  was,  all  unused  to  tears — he  could  not  restrain  the  big,  burning 
drops  that  gushed  to  his  eyes  and  rolled  down  his  manly  cheeks. 
He  pressed  her  more  closely  to  him.  He  was  about  to  speak, 
when  a  footfall  on  the  steps  attracted  their  attention.  It  was 
Frank  Carter,  Mary's  cousin,  just  returned  from  the  country. 

"  And  Morgan  has  come,  cousin  !  "  he  exclaimed,  as  soon  as  he 
caught  a  glimpse  of  Mary.  "  Where  is  John  ?  I  am  almost  crazy 
Id  see  him.     I  understand  he  was  here." 

Charley  stepped  forward.  Young  Carter  recognized  him  in- 
stantly. 

"  Why,  Charley,  my  friend,  is  this  you  1  How  do  you  do  1  I 
am  so  glad  to  see  you,"  and  he  stood  shaking  the  young  soldier 
by  both  hands,  looking  him  intently  in  the  eye,  his  face  beaming 
with  the  happiness  the  meeting  with  his  old  friend  gave  him. 
"  And  where  is  John,  Charley  ?     Isn't  he  with  you  1 " 

"  He  accompanied  Miss  May  to  the  ice-cream  saloon  a  short  time 
since,  but  will  be  back  in  a  few  minutes,  I  suppose." 

The  three  passed  into  the  parlor.  In  a  few  minutes  Miss  Jenny 
May  and  young  Lawrence  returned. 

Carter  sprang  from  his  seat  and  clasped  his  cousin  in  his  arms. 
They  had  been  playmates  in  childhood,  and  the  love  of  brothers 
characterized  their  whole  life. 

"  Oh,  John,  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you  once  more  safely  back  in 
old  Kentucky.      In  the  name  of  all  the  true  hearts  in  our  once 
proud  but  now  degraded  State,  I  welcome  you.    May  you  be  one 
11 


162  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

of  the  noble  braves  to  drive  the  hordes  of  Abolition  invaders  from 
her  bosom." 

"  Join  us,  Frank,  we  need  the  strong,  young  arms  and  nerved, 
souls  to  aid  us  in  our  work." 

"  Have  you  a  gun  for  me,  John?  " 

"  Yes  ;  can  give  you  a  complete  outfit.  Will  you  accept  it,  and 
ast  your  lot  with  us  1 " 

"  With  right  good  will,  John.  I  set  out  from  home  with  that 
expectation.  I  have  long  desired  a  fitting  opportunity  to  join  you, 
and  I  am  now  ready.     I  go  with  you  to-night." 

"  And  what  will  become  of  me,  Frank  ?  You  know  mother  en- 
trusted me  to  you." 

"  Oh,  you  will  be  taken  care  of.  I  shall  assuredly  provide  for 
you." 

"  Patriotism  first,  gallantry  afterwards — first  our  country,  then 
our  sweethearts.  This  should  be  the  motto  now,  Mary  ;  don't 
you  think  so,  gentlemen  ?  "  asked  Miss  May. 

"  Our  country  and  our  sweethearts,  first  and  forever,  Miss  May, 
is  the  watchword  of  Kentucky  soldiers.  We  fight  for  both,  for 
both  we  die,  but  never  yield  either  to  the  foe." 

The  evening  was  spent  most  delightfully  in  song,  music  and 
cheerful  conversation.  Southern  songs  were  sung  without  restraint. 
No  blue-coated  spy  paced  the  streets  to  search  out  "treason." 

Charley  and  Mary  again  found  the  balcony.  Love  seeks  no 
society  save  its  own.  Time  sped  by  with  nimble  feet.  Charley 
lingered.  To-morrow  he  might  be  torn  away  for  the  rapid  march 
or  bloody  skirmish.  Sweet  were  the  words  of  love  interchanged 
by  these  two  young,  trusting  hearts.  How  brightly,  wreathed 
with  the  halo  of  hopeful  promise  and  joy,  did  the  future  outspread 
before  them  ?  Love  is  a  kaleidoscope  which,  however  many  new 
and  rare  combinations  are  presented,  none  are  devoid  of  beautiful 
colors  or  symmetrical  forms. 

"  Time  for  us  to  leave,  isn't  it,  Charley  ?"  said  young  Lawrence, 
appearing  on  the  balcony,  accompanied  by  his  cousin,  Mr.  Carter. 
"  Can  you  guess  the  hour,  my  friend  ? " 

"  Ten  o'clock,  I  suppose,"  replied  Charley,  taking  out  his  watch 
for  the  first  time  during  the  evening. 

"  Ten  o'clock,  Charley !  "  cried  Lawrence,  laughing  heartily. 
"  Time  must  have  passed  pleasantly  with  you,  truly.  Wouldn't 
you  think  so,  Miss  Jenny  and  Frank?  Charley  says  ten,  my 
watch  says  five  minutes  to  twelve.  Charley  has  taken  no  note  of 
time,  the  watch  has  measured  every  minute,  so  I  suppose  we  shall 
have  to  take  the  testimony  of  the  latter,  and  bid  you  ladies  good- 
night." 

"  We  soldiers  don't  often  have  the  pleasure  of  ladies  society," 
responded  Charley  to  his  friend's  badinage.  "  This  must  plead 
our  apology  for  the  present  trespass.  When  we  call  again,  we 
hope  to  be  more  thoughtful  of  your  comfort  and  the  prescribed 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  163 

I 
forms  of  etiquette.    Good-night,  ladies,"  and,  bowing  politely,  he 
descended  the  steps. 

His  two  friends,  after  promising  to  return  on  the  morrow,  "  if 
circumstances  would  permit,'"  bade  the  young  ladies  good-night, 
and  followed  his  example. 

Descending  the  steps,  and  turning  the  corner  of  the  street,  they 
were  soon  lost  to  sight. 


CHAPTER    XXXVI. 


SUCCESS    OP    THE    ATTEMPT    TO    VfSIT    LEXINGTON. 

It  had  been  concerted  by  Curd,  Irving,  Castleman  and  young 
Morgan  to  visit  Lexington  in  disguise,  if  they  could  obtain  leave 
of  absence  until  the  following  evening.  This  done,  the  four  dress- 
ed themselves  up  in  a  full  suit  of  Lincoln  blue,  and  about  nine 
o'clock  they  set  out  on  their  perilous  undertaking.  They  knew 
every  mile  of  the  way,  having  often  traveled  it,  and  they  were  also 
fully  acquainted  with  the  sentiments  of  every  individual  on  the 
road-side,  so  that  they  had  nothing  to  apprehend  on  the  score  of 
falling  into  Union  hands.  Their  only  danger  on  the  way  was  the 
Federal  pickets,  which  must,  par  necessite,  be  either  evaded  or  de- 
ceived. But  they  also  ran  the  further  risk  of  being  recognized  by 
every  individual  whom  they,  might  meet  in  the  city,  and  thereby 
betrayed  into  Federal  hands. 

But  these  young  men  were  fond  of  adventure,  and  they  cared  not 
a  whit  how  narrow  the  escape  was,  so  they  escaped.  Indeed,  the 
very  danger  they  must  be  subject  to  throughout,  only  served  to  add 
zest  to  the  scheme. 

The  four,  mounted  on  fleet  horses  and  completely  disguised,  set 
out  amid  the  shouts  and  cheers  of  their  comrades,  on  their  rather 
dubious  expedition.  Many  were  the  wagers  laid  by  the  boys  that 
they  would  be  nabbed  by  the  Yankees,  and  sent  to  the  military 
prison  at  Louisville ;  but  the  young  adventurers,  confident  of  suc- 
cess, in  every  instance  doubled  the  sum  that  they  would  return  the 
following  night,  with  all  the  items  of  news  known  in  the  besieged 
city  of  Lexington. 

"  Present  our  regards  to  our  friends  in  the  city,"  shouted  a  dozen 
voices,  as  laying  whip  to  their  horses  the  merry  quartette  dashed 


164  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

off  on  their  excursion.  They  rode  a)  a  rapid  pace  for  five  or  six 
miles,  heeding  neither  toll-gate  nor  the  groups  of  two  and  three 
Federal  soldiers  which  they  passed  on  their  way. 

When  within  five  miles  of  Lexington,  they  halted  to  discuss  and 
decide  upon  the  best  plan  to  be  pursued.  Morgan  and  Curd  were 
in  favor  of  attempting  to  pass  the  pickets  on  horseback.  Irving 
and  Castleman  thought  it  best  to  dismount,  leave  their  horses  at 
the  house  of  a  friend,  and,  avoiding  the  pickets,  enter  the  city  by 
a  by-path. 

"We  can  deceive  them,  Irving,  rest  assured  we  can,"  argued 
Morgan.  "They'll  never  suspect  us.  I'll  give  the  Yankee  twang 
so  completely,  they'll  swear  I  am  a  regular  Down-Easter,  and  no 
mistake." 

"  But,  Cal,  is  it  not  better  to  avoid  them  altogether  %  Then  we 
shall  certainly  be  safe." 

"  But  how  can  this  be  done,  and  where  shall  we  leave  our  horses, 
Irving?  I  would  as  soon  the  wretches  would  get  me  as  my 
horse." 

"  Ah,  I  can  manage  that,  Cal.  There  is  an  old  friend  of  mine, 
just  across  the  way  here,  that  will  take  good  care  of  them  until  we 
come  back.  Once  in  his  hands,  and  I'll  wager  my  head  the  Feds 
will  never  get  them." 

"  But  how  shall  we  avoid  the  pickets  1  They  are  as  thick  about 
the  city  as  leaves  in  Vallambrosa,  no  doubt." 

"  But  certainly  we  can  shun  them  better  as  pedestrians  than  we 
could  on  horseback." 

"  But,  in  the  latter  case,  if  we  could  neither  deceive  nor  shun 
them,  we  could  effect  an  escape,  while  if  on  foot  they  might  shoot 
us  before  we  could  make  an  effort  to  get  away." 

"  I  will  take  the  chances  on  foot,'  Cal.  I  am  convinced  it  is  tbe 
•safer  plan." 

"  And  1  will  trust  to  my  ingenuity,  blarney  and  this  good  steed 
of  mine  to  secure  me  a  safe  passage  through,  or  a  safe  exit  from 
the  rascals." 

After  a  lengthy  discussion  on  the  subject,  it  was  finally  agreed, 
as  a  test  of  the  judgment  of  the  respective  parties,  that  Morgan  and 
Curd  should  attempt  the  trip  on  horseback,  while  Irving  and  Cas- 
tleman would  essay  it  on  foot.  It  was  arranged  that  they  should 
meet  the  next  day,  at  two  o'clock,  to  dine  at  Mrs.  Morgan's, 
mother  of  the  Colonel,  provided  they  succeeded  in  the  attempt. 

Irving  and  Castleman  turned  through  a  gate  to  the  right,  to  seek 
the  house  of  the  friend  with  whom  the  horses  were  to  be  left. 
Morgan  and  Curd,  bidding  them  good-night,  pursued  their  way 
along  the  pike.  They  rode  on  about  a  mile,  planning  their  passage 
through  the  lines,  when  suddenly  they  came  upon  the  pickets, 
seven  or  eight  strong.    Morgan  rode  forward. 

"  Halt ! "  called  out  a  Hoosier,  thrusting  his  bayonet  across 
the  road.  "  Halt!  I  tell  you,  or  I'll  blow  out  your  brains  in  a 
minute !  "  * 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  165 

"  Two  of  the  51st  Ohio,"  answered  Morgan,  with  the  veritable 
Yankee  drawl,  "  trying  to  escape  from  Morgan's  men.  Got  caught 
out  here,  and  came  within  an  ace  of  beiug  made  prisoners.  Had 
a  hard  time  to  get  off.  I  tell  you,  these  rebels  are  regular  dare- 
devils.   Bully  fellows,  they." 

"  Where's  your  pass  1     Let  me  see  that." 

"  Pass,  my  friend  1  How  do  you  suppose  we  could  get  a  pass, 
when  there  was  nobody  to  give  us  one.  Our  pass  to-night  were 
these  two  good  steeds." 

Just  at  this  juncture  four  or  five  others,  that  had  been  sitting 
by  the  road-side,  about  half  asleep,  came  up  and  joined  the  Hoosier, 
who  explained  the  matter  to  them,  and  asked  their  advice. 

"  Our  orders  are  to  let  no  one  pass  in  or  out,"  spoke  a  red-hair- 
ed man,  whom  Morgan  immediately  recognized  as  Bill  Green,  of 
the  Lexington  Home  Guards.  "  And  we  can't  disobey  orders,  if 
Morgan's  men  do  catch  you,"  added  another  voice,  perfectly  fami- 
liar to  his  ear.  He  looked  over  the  group.  There  were  four  there 
that  knew  him  well — the  least  circumstance  might  betray  him. 

What  should  he  do  ?  To  attempt  to  deceive  them  was  risking 
everything.  They  might  recognize  him  at  any  moment.  And 
how  gladly  would  they  seize  upon  him.  What  a  prize  !  "  Cal. 
Morgan,  the  brother  of  John  Morgan  ! "  All  the  papers  in  the 
land  would  be  filled  with  the  glad  intelligence. 

They  debated  but  a  moment.  Giving  curd  the  signal,  he  wheel- 
ed his  horse,  and  started  off  at  full  speed. 

"Rebels!  rebels!"  and  a  half  dozen  bullets  shredded  the  air 
around  their  head.  One  passed  through  young  Curd's  Lincoln 
cap.  One  glanced  by  Morgan's  right  foot,  but  no  damage  was 
received  by  either,  as  they  dashed  on  as  rapidly  as  their  horses 
could  bear  them,  pursued  by  four  of  the  picket  guard,  who,  mount- 
ing their  steeds,  set  out  to  catch  the  rebels. 

The  horses  of  the  pursuers  were  fresh,  and  they  were  fast  gain- 
ing on  the  two  fugitives. 

"  Fire,  Curd,"  said  Morgan.  *•  May  be  we  can  kill  one  of  them. 
This  will  put  an  end  to  the  chase." 

Curd  obeyed  the  bidding,  and  fired.  The  shot  was  harmless. 
It  was  immediately  replied  to. 

Morgan  turned  himself  in  his  saddle,  and  aimed  at  the  man 
nearest  him. 

"  Oh,  God !  I  am  shot — I'm  killed  !  "  cried  out  the  Yankee.  His 
companions  halted. 

Morgan  and  Curd  took  advantage  of  the  confusion,  and  spurring 
their  horses  forward  to  their  fullest  speed,  dashed  over  the  hill  and 
out  of  sight.  Nor  did  they  stop  until  they  were  assured  they  were 
beyond  the  guns  of  their  enemies. 

There  was  high  merriment  in  camp  as  they  told  over  the  story 
of  their  escape,  and  many  a  joke  was  perpetrated  at  their  expense. 


166  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

It  was  one  o'clock  the  following  day.  A  young  female,  closely 
veiled,  rang  the  door-bell  of  Mrs.  Morgan's  residence.  A  servant 
quickly  appeared. 

"  Hand  your  mistress  this  card."  In  a  few  minutes  Mrs.  Mor- 
gan entered  the  parlor. 

"  Is  your  son  at  home,  Mrs.  Morgan  ? "  asked  the  girl  in  a  whis- 
per, as  the  two  seated  themselves  on  the  sofa. 

"  Which  one,  Belle  ?  What  do  you  mean  ?"  asked  the  old  lady, 
in  a  voice  of  surprise.. 

"  Oal,  Mrs.  Morgan." 

"  No,  my  dear.  You  surprise  me  by  your  question.  What  do 
you  mean  ?  You  did  not  expect  to  find  him  here,  did  you?"  asked/ 
the  old  lady,  trembling  from  head  to  foot. 

"  Get  your  bonnet,  Mrs.  Morgan,  and  go  with  me.  My  brother 
and  young  Irving  are  at  my  mother's,  and  want  to  see  you.  Be 
quiet ;  I'll  tell  you  all  when  we  reach  the  carriage.  Let  me  call 
the  servant,"  added  the  young  girl,  as  she  saw  the  nervous  state 
of  Mrs.  M.,  who,  unable  to  control  herself,  stood  leaning  on  the 
table.  The  young  girl  placed  the  bonnet  and  shawl  on  the  trem- 
bling mother,  and  led  her  to  the  carriage,  ordering  the  driver  to 
take  the  most  private  way  home.  The  young  girl  turned  to  Mrs. 
Morgan  and  said,  "  my  brother  and  Mr.  Irving  reached  home  this 
morning,  about  three  o'clock.  They  avoided  the  pickets  and  got 
in  without  difficulty.    Your  son  and — " 

"  Which  son,  Belle?"  gasped  the  agitated  mother,  seizing  her 
arm.     "God  grant  John  has  not  fallen  into  their  bloody  hands !" 

"  No,  no,  Mrs:  Morgan ;  it  was  not  Colonel  Morgan,  but  your 
younger  son,  Cal.  It  was  agreed  that  he  and  Jack  Curd  should 
attempt  to  pass  the  Federal  pickets  in  the  dress  of  Lincoln  soldiers. 
They  were  on  horseback.  My  brother  and  Mr.  Irving  set  out  on 
foot,  and  succeeded  in  getting  safely  through,  and  are  now  at  my 
mother'^.  They  were  all  to  dine  with  you  to-day,  this  was  the 
agreement  when  they  parted.  But  brother  thinks  our  house  is 
watched,  and  he  and  Mr.  Irving  are  afraid  to  leave.  They  sent 
me  to  see  if  your  son  and  young  Curd  were  with  you,  and  if  they 
were  not,  I  was  instructed  to  bring  you  home  with  me." 

"  Oh,  my  child,  my  poor  son  !  I  am  afraid  the  Yankees  have 
got  him.  How  shamefully  they  will  use  him,  merely  because  he 
is  a  Morgan  !  My  cup  of  grief  is  full — it  overflows.  Surely,  I  am 
stricken — afflicted.  But  I  must  not  falter.  These  are  no  times 
for  fear  and  irresolution.  My  children  fight  for  a  just  cause ;  I 
must  trust  them  in  the  hands  of  God.  Have  you  seen  the  morn- 
ing paper,  my  child?  If  they  are  captured,  that,  no  doubt,  con- 
tains the  intelligence." 

"  I  have  not,  Mrs.  Morgan.  We  do  not  take  the  Observer  ;  but 
there  is  a  boy  with  some  papers.  I  will  hail  him  and  get  one." 
The  carriage  was  stopped ;  the  boy  called  ;  the  paper  purchased. 

Eagerly  the  young  girl  looked  over  its  columns,  while  Mrs. 
Morgan  sat  in  breathless  suspense  at  her  side.  # 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN  J  67 

"  They  were  not  caught,  Mrs.  Morgan.  Here,  listen  how  nar- 
rowly they  escaped.  I  know  this  must  be  the  account  of  it,"  and 
the  young  girl  read  the  description  of  the  scene  as  it  had  occurred 
the  night  before.  "  They  were  dressed  in  Federal  uniform,  Mrs. 
Morgan.  I  know  they  were  so  ;  there  can  be  no  mistake  about  it. 
My  brother  and  Mr.  Irving  are  thus  attired,  and  they  told  us  your 
son  and  young  Curd  used  the  same  means  to  avoid  detection.'' 

"  Thank  God !  my  child  is  safe.  I  should  be  very  glad  to  see 
him,  but  I  would  not  have  him  risk  his  life  to  come  to  me.  I  have 
been  trying  all  morning  to  get  a  pass  out  of  the  city,  but  they 
would  not  grant  me  one.  I  feel  I  would  risk  everything  to  see 
my  children;  but,  with  their  brutal  cruelty,  they  deny  me  this 
poor  request,  just  because  they  know  it  almost  breaks  my  heart  to 
remain  here  while  my  children  are  so  near." 

The  ladies  alighted  at  Mrs.  Oastleman's  door.  Mrs.  Morgan  was 
shown  up  stairs  into  a  private  room,  where  she  was  welcomed  by 
the  two  soldiers,  who  sat  enjoying  themselves  in  the  midst  of 
friends  of  both  sexes  iCnd  of  all  ages. 

The  heroes  soon  reisfed  to  Mrs.  Morgan's  anxious  mind  the 
whole  story,  and  assured  her  that  the  statement  in  the  morning 
paper  must  be  correct,  as  the  description  of  the  two  men  accorded 
precisely  with  the  appearance  of  her  son  and  his  friend. 

Most  happily  the  evening  passed  to  these  two  men,  prisoners  as 
they  were  in  the  home  of  their  birth ;  their  rights  as  freemen 
trampled  into  the  earth  by  a  horde  of  Abolitionists,  who  had  no 
more  right  on  Kentucky  soil  thanOaffres  or  Bushmen. 

Friend  after  friend  called  in  until  the  large  room  was  filled  with 
the  young,  the  old,  the  gay,  the  sober,  all  anxious  to  see  old  ac- 
quaintances who  now  enjoyed  the  high  reputation  of  being  Mor- 
gan's men. 

Having  seen  their  sweethearts  and  friends,  and  obtained  all  the 
information  they  could,  the  two  set  out  to  retrace  their  steps  ;  and 
heroes  they  were  dubbed,  as  at  1  o'clock  that  night  they  entered 
their  camp  at  Georgetown,  without  a  scratch  or  any  such  memento 
of  an*  affray  with  the  Yankees. 

Ah,  what  lasting  memories  gather  around  that  midnight  ex- 
cursion ! 


168  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 


STAY  OF  THE  CONFEDERATES  IN  GEORGETOWN. 

Colonel  Morgan  took  possession  of  Georgetown  on  Tuesday 
evening,  July  15th.  The  same  evening  he  issued  the  following 
proclamation  to  the  people  of  Kentucky  : 

"Kentuckians!  I  come  to  liberate  you  from  the  despotism  of 
tyrannical  fanaticism,  and  to  rescue  my  native  State  from  the  hands 
of  your  o;  pressors.  Everywhere  the  cowardly  foes  have  fled  from 
my  avenging  arms.  My  brave  *irmy  is  stigmatized  as  a  band  of 
guerillas  and  marauders.  Believe  it  not.  I  point  with  pride  to 
their  deeds  as  a  refutation  of  this  foul  assertion. 

"  "We  come  not  to  molest  peaceable  fet  Hviduals,  nor  to  destroy 
private  property,  but  guarantee  absolute^'protection  to  all  who  are 
not  in  arms  against  us.  We  ask  only  to  meet  the  hireling  legions 
of  Lincoln.  The  eyes  of  your  brothers  of  the  South  are  upon  you. 
Your  gallant  fellow-citizens  are  flocking  to  our  standard.  Our 
armies  are  rapidly  advancing  to  your  protection.  Then  greet  them 
with  the  willing  hands  of  fifty  thousand  of  Kentucky's  bravest 
sons.     Their  advance  is  already  with  you.     Then, 

•  "  Strike  for  the  green  graves  of  your  sires  ! 

Strike  for  your  altars  and  your  fires  ! 
God  and  your  native  land  !" 

The  citizens  believed  bis  words,  and  reinforcements  assembled 
around  his  standard  from  Eranklin,  Scott,  Trimble,  Owen  and 
Bourbon  counties.  Brave  hearts  and  strong  arms  rallied  to  swell 
the  number  of  Kentucky's  deliverers. 

On  entering  the  town,  Colonel  Morgan  immediately  took  pos- 
session of  the  press  and  telegraph  office. 

The  operator,  a  deep-dyed  Lincolnite,  declared  on  a  demand 
being  made  for  his  apparatus,  that  it  had  all  been  packed  up  and 
sent  to  Cincinnati  as  soon  as  it  was  known  the  Confederates  were 
marching  on  the  place.  Col.  Morgan  scanned  the  poor  affrighted 
felon  from  head  to  foot.  He  was  a  pretty  good  judge  of  men  and 
circumstances,  and  feeling  assured  that  the  creature  was  trying  to 
deceive  him,  he  in  a  very  calm,  decided  tone  told  him  he  could 
make  his  choice  of  two  things:  either  produce  the  battery,  etc., 
or  take  a  trip  with"  him  South,  to  share  the  privileges  of  a  Dixie 
prison. 

The  man  looked  blank  with  astonishment.  This  fearful  alter- 
native was  wholly  unexpected.  His  heart  recoiled  in  dread  before 
the  horrid   picture  his  excited   fancy   drew  of  the  miseries  of  a 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  169 

Castle  Thunder.  He  hesitated — looked  confused — paled  and  red- 
dened by  turns.  How  could  he  convict  himself  of  falsehood  ? 
He  cast  a  furtive  glance  on  the  Colonel,  as  he  stood  there  calmly 
awaiting  his  decision.  He  saw  the  demand  was  imperative. — 
Moving  slowly  towards  the  bed,  he  stooped  down,  and,  with  the 
look  of  a  criminal,  drew  from  its  hiding-place  all  the  missing  ap- 
paratus. Colonel  Morgan  received  it  gracefully,  at  the  same  time 
ordering  two  of  his  men  to  take  in  charge  the  poor,  trembling 
operator.  • 

Situated  as  Morgan  was,  in  such  close  proximity  to  the  enemy, 
now  assembled  in  force  at  Frankfort,  seventeen  miles  in  his  rear, 
and  at  Lexington,  only  twelve  to  his  right,  and  also  rapidly  don; 
gregating  at  Paris  in  front  of  him,  it  became  necessary  to  act  with 
the  greatest  dispatch  and  caution. 

A  company  of  men,  under  Captain  McMillan,  was  immediately 
sent  out  to  effectually  destroy  the  railroad  between  Midway  and 
Lexington,  and  Midway  and  Frankfort,  thereby  preventing  rein- 
forcement from  being  sent  to  Lexington. 

The  boys  performed  this  task  with  alacrity  and  success.  They 
tore  up  the  track,  blew  up  the  stone  bridge,  rendering  the  road 
wholly  useless  to  the  enemy,  and  returned  in  triumph  to  George- 
town. 

Scouts  were  also  sent,  forward  toward  Paris,  to  ascertain  the 
number  and  position  of  the  troops  at  that  point. 

The  day  following  Morgan's  entrance  into  Georgetown,  as  he 
was  sitting  in  bis  office  with  Colonel  St.  Leger,  Major  Duke  and 
others,  among  whom  were  many  of  the  first  citizens  of  the  place, 
an  old  man  of  venerable  appearance  was  conducted  in  by  two  of 
his  men,  who  informed  the  Colonel  that  the  visitor  had  intelligence 
of  importance  to  communicate. 

The  Colonel  rose,  and  received  the  old  gentleman  with  a  polite 
bow  and  pleasant  smile,  at  rhe  same  time  requesting  him  to  be 
seated,  which  the  visitor  did  with  an  air  of  simple  modesty,  Col. 
Morgan  scanned  him  closely  from  head  to  foot.  He  was  a  plain, 
unassuming  farmer,  dressed  in  homespun,  and  wearing  a  low- 
crowned  beaver  hat,  which  he  now  held  in  his  hand.  His  coun- 
tenance was  open  and  expressive  of  ingenuousness  and  truth. — 
Col.  Morgan  was  satisfied  with  the  scrutiny.  It  was  impossible 
for  such  a  man  to  be  guilty  of  a  desire  to  deceive. 

Excusing  himself  to  his  friends,  and  leading  the  visitor  into  a 
small  ante-room,  Colonel  Morgan  questioned  him  respecting  the 
intelligence  he  bore. 

"  I  come,  Colonel^'  replied  the  old  man,  in  a  mild,  respectful 
tone,  which  at  once  bespoke  him  a  gentleman,  "to  iuform  you 
with  regard  to  a  Federal  force  at  Stamping  Ground,  about  twelve 
miles  from  here,  which  I  think,  sir,  you  can  easily  capture,  with 
all  their  accoutrements." 

Convinced  that  the  old  man's  story  was  reliable,  Col.  Morgan 


170  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

asked,  "  How  many  Yankees  do  you  think  there  are  in  the  force 
of  which  you  speak  V 

"  Only  about  seventy-five,  sir.  I  myself  have  counted  them 
twice,  and  both  times  made  that  number." 

"Are  they  well  armed,  sir?" 

"  Very  well,  Colonel.  First  rate  guns,  and  every  equipment 
necessary." 

"  What  have  they  beside  their  guss  V 

"  Tents,  wagous,  and  stores  of  every  kind,  which  have  been  sent 
up  recently  from  Frankfort.  And,  in  addition  to  these,  they  have 
some  boxes  of  guns  which  have  not  yet  been  opened." 

"  Can  they  fight  pretty  well,  and  have  they  a  brave  captain  IV 

"Can't  answer  for  the  men,  Colonel;  but  their  captain  is  as 
brave  a  man  as  ever  lived." 

"  Are  they  looking  for  my  men,  and  have  they  made  any  prepa- 
ration to  receive  them,  and  if  so,  of  what  nature  and  where?" 

"  When  I  left  there  late  yesterday  evening,  they  were  all  in 
confusion,  every  moment  looking  for  you  to  come  down  upon  them, 
and  I  judge,  Colonel,  they  are  looking  for  you  yet.  They  had  no 
defence  then,  and  I  should  think  from  the  scare  they  were  in,  that 
they  have  found  no  time  for  preparation  of  any  kind ;  your  scouts 
could  readily  ascertain  this,  Colonel.  Any  man  there  would  tell 
them." 

Colonel  Morgan  thanked  the  old  gentleman  kindly,  and  desired 
him  to  dine  with  him  at  the  hotel.  But  the  old  farmer  declined. 
"All  he  desired  was  to  be  permitted  to  shake  hands  with  the  men 
and  bid  them  God-speed  in  their  glorious  cause."' 

A  guide  was  appointed  to  show  the  old  man  to  the  camp  and 
introduce  him  to  the  boys. 

"  Call  Captain  Hamilton,"  said  Colonel  Morgan  to  one  of  his 
aids. 

"  Captain,"  said  the  Colonel,  as  the  young  officer  stood  befere 
him,  "  take  with  you  one  hundred  men  and  proceed  to  Stamping 
Ground,  break  up  the  Federal  encampment  there  and  capture  all 
their  stores,  and  report  to  me  at  this  point." 

The  dashing  Captain  set  out  with  his  men  about  noon.  The 
road  was  fine,  and,  after  a  ride  of  an  hour  and  a  half,  they  came 
upon  the  Federal  pickets,  who  fled  at  their  approach,  giving  to  the 
encampment  the  fearful  intelligence  that  Morgan's  whole  force  was 
marching  into  the  village. 

In  vain  their  captain  endeavored  to  rally  them  for  a  fight.  He 
told  them  they  could  drive  back  thrice  their  number.  But  his  ar- 
guments could  not  convince  the  frightened  men  that  they  pos- 
sessed this  wonderful  amount  of  courage.  They  seized  their  guns, 
but  farther  than  this  they  manifested  no  disposition  to  advance  to 
the  fray.  They  stood,  fearful  and  irresolute.  He  assured  them 
the  enemy  numbered  but  about  fifty  men — that  the  pickets  were 
scared,  and  did  not  remain  to  see  how  many  there  were ;  plead 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  17  1 

with  them  to  protect  their  homes  and  families — to  show  themselves 
worthy  supporters  of  the  glorious  old  flag  which  their  forefathers 
had  so  nobly  defended. 

After  much  persuasion,  he  induced  them  to  follow  him  a  few 
hundred  yards  from  their  encampment,  where  he  formed  them  in 
line  of  battle.  By  this  time  the  enemy  could  be  distinctly  heard, 
rapidly  descending  the  hill  into  the  village.  The  clattering  of 
their  horses'  hoofs  was  fearful  to  the  affrighted  ears  of  the  trem- 
bling men. 

A  youth  of  the  place  rushed  up  and  cried  out  that  Morgan,  at 
the  head  of  at  least  five  hundred  men,  was  dashing  on  to  attack 
them.  It  was  enough.  The  forces  broke  and  ran,  scattering  in 
every  direction.  Each  one  sought  safety  where  he  thought  it. 
could  best  be  secured. 

Some  did  not  stop  until  they  found  themselves  lost  amid  the 
high  hills  that  bound  the  village  on  the  north.  Others  secreted 
themselves  in  barns  and  houses,  while  others,  finding  escape  im- 
possible, surrendered  themselves  and  received  their  parole.  Capt. 
Hamilton  ordered  his  men  to  set  fire  to  the  tents,  and  destroy  the 
guns  and  stores.  They  then  returned  to  the  village,  and,  amid  the 
wonder  of  the  gaping  crowd,  took  possession  of  the  medical  and 
commissary  supplies,  which  soon  shared  the  fate  of  the  tents  and 
guns. 

The  victors  remained  awhile  to  rest  and  enjoy  the  hospitality  of 
the  friends,  who,  as  soon  as  they  were  relieved  of  the  presence  of 
the  Lincolnites,  hastened  to  surround  thena  and  corgralulate  them 
on  their  bloodless  victory. 

Recruits,  to  the  number  of  seven  or  eight,  joined  them  here,  and 
were  provided  with  guns  taken  from  the  vanquished  Lincolnites. 

A  detachment  was  sent  under  Captain  Castleman,  brother  to  the 
one  who  had  so  successfully  entered  Lexington,  to  destroy  the  rail- 
road bridges  between  Paris  and  Lexington. 

Success  having  crowned  all  of  Colonel  Morgan's  plans,  the  boys 
felt  themselves  safe  in  their  present  happy  position,  and  gave 
themselves  up  to  enjoyment.  They  dashed  out  into  the  country, 
visited  the  farm  houses,  where  they  were  kindly  received  and 
treated  to  Kentucky's  best  cheer';  called  to  see  the  ladies;  par- 
took daily  of  the  nicest  provisions,  which  were  sent  in  the  greatest 
profusion  into  the  camp  ;  laughed,  danced  and  sung. 

Colonel  Morgan  was  waited  upon  by  many  of  the  best  citizens 
of  the  place,  who  dared  thus  to  speak  out  their  sentiments,  despite 
the  dark  scowls  and  bitter  threats  of  the  Union  neighbors. 

There  was  a  physician  in  town,  uncle  to  Major  Gano,  of  the 
Texas  squadron.  This  gentleman  had  been. a  rabid  Unionist  from 
the  beginning  of  the  troubles,  and  was  one  of  the  first  men  in 
that  community  to  advocate  the  formation  and  arming  of  the  Home 
Guard  company.  In  consideration  of  his  active  services  in  ob- 
taining arms  and  enlistments,  he  had  been  selected  as  captain  of 


172  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

the  body,  but  with  his  men  he  had  ingloriously  fled  to  Lexington, 
having  first  sent  his  family  to  the  country.  His  residence  was  in 
the  suburbs  of  the  town,  and  fronted  by  a  most  beautiful  lawn. 
Into  this  Major  Gano  marched  his  command  and  encamped. 

The  Texas  boys  soon  learned  they  were  on  the  premises  of  one 
of  their  bitterest  foes,  and,  fired  at  the  thought,  they  vowed  to  de- 
stroy everything  before  them. 

"  Why  should  they  protect  the  property  of  a  man  who  was  then 
under  arms  to  kill  them  V  they  argued,  and  with  that  spirit  of 
"  evil  for  evil,"  which  inhabits  the  human  breast,  they  set  out  to 
begin  their  work  of  destruction. 

The  Major,  bearing  of  their  intention,  forbade  any  man's  touch- 
ing anything  on  the  premises,  and  placed  a  guard  around  the  house. 
And,  a  few  days  after,  when  the  possessor  returned,  he  found 
every  thing  in  statu  quo,  except  some  forage,  which  the  men  had 
been  permitted  to  appropriate  for  their  horses. 

The  premises  of  other  Union  men  were  every  where  guarded 
with  the  same  fidelity.  And  instead  of  the  ravage  and  ruin  which 
always  characterize  the  progress  of  the  Abolition  hordes,  they  left 
behind  them  undisturbed  homes  and  thankful  happy  hearts. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 


THE    PARTING. 


It  was  the  evening  of  the  second  day  of  Morgan's  occupation  of 
Georgetown.  Orders  had  been  given  that  on  the  followiug  morn- 
ing the  whole  command  must  be  ready  to  advance  at  an  early  hour. 
Busy  preparations  for  a  move  were  every  where  made  throughout 
the  ranks,  for  the  men  well  knew  what  Colonel  Morgan  meant  by 
an  early  hour. 

The  dreamy  twilight  was  gliding  noiselessly  over  the  earth. — 
The  sun  declining  behind  the  western  horizon,  had  left  in  his  gol- 
den way  a  flood  of  light,  which  fled  in  mellowed  radiance  over  the 
soft  summer's  landscape.  The  stars,  one  by  one,  stole  out  from 
behind  their  blue  hidings  above,  and  looked  quietly  down  upon  the 
green  earth.     The  moon  sent  out  her  silvery  beams  to  add  to  the 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  173 

heavenly  beauty  of  the  scene.  The  meek-eyed  flowers  lifted  lov- 
ingly their  tiny  heads  to  catch  the  kiss  of  the  cooling  zephyr  as  it 
sported  on  airy  wings  across  the  tufted  lawn  and  waving  meadows. 

With  mingled  emotions  of  joy  and  sorrow.  Charley  wended  his 
way  over  the  slope  that  intervened  between  the  encampment  and 
the  town.  Old  memories  rusbed  through  his  mind.  The  past,  the 
present,  the  future,  each  crowded  upon  his  thoughts  with  their 
promises,  their  sadness,  until  bewildered,  he  could  only  feel — not 
think. 

To-night  he  should  see  Mary — perhaps  for  the  last  time.  Should 
they  meet  again,  it  must  he  after  vears  had  run  their  weary  round. 
Perhaps — and  he  shuddered  at  the  thought — perhaps  the  Angel 
of  Death  might  come  and  intervene  his  dark  wing — and  they 
should  never  again  meet  until  they  should  together  stand  before 
the  Great  White  Throne  above. 

He  was  passing  through  the  beautiful  lawn  which  bounds  that 
famous  stream,  the  "  Big  Spring  of  Georgetown,"  when  he  heard 
a  ringing  laugh,  which  was  all  too  familiar  to  be  mistaken.  Seek- 
ing the  point  from  whence  it  issued,  he  found  Mary,  Jenny  and 
John,  reposing  on  the  grassy  mound,  which  rises  like  a  throne 
above  the  gurgling  spring,  the  mossy  haunt  of  the  guardian  naiad 
of  these  crystal  waters. 

Charley  approached  them,  and  seating  himself  on  the  green  car- 

•  pet  beside  the  group,  engaged  in  the  merry  conversation,  which 

was  chiefly  supported  by  Jenny  and  John.     There  was  a  want  of 

interest  in  his  words,  and  his  air  was  that  of  one  whose  thoughts 

were  far  removed. 

Mary  was  silent  and  embarrassed.  She,  too,  had  essayed  to  join 
in  the  merry  chat,  but  her  words  were  without  interest,  her  sen- 
tences left  unfinished.  Her  eyes  sought  the  ground,  or  looked  list- 
lessly out  into  vacuity  ;  while  the  varying  shades  that  passed  over 
her  now  thoughtful  and  saddened  face,  told  the  changeful  feelings 
that  thronged  her  bosom.  Her  soul  was  burdened  with  a  fearful 
sorrow.  Afar  off  in  the  future  she  saw  the  shadow  which  now  fell 
so  ominously  about  her,  deepening  and  deepening,  until  ;t  became 
impenetrable  gloom. 

JShe  had  parted  once  before  with  Charley,  but  then  she  felt  no 
fear.  All  was  bright  and  hopeful,  and  adown  the  opening  vista 
she  looked  and  beheld  every  where  sunlight  and  joy.  Why  the 
change  ! — this  sad — this  fearful  change.  She  could  not  tell. — 
There  was  no  cause  in  the  present  for  this  dark  foreboding.  Why 
should  she  borrow  sombre  clouds  from  the  future?  She  asked 
herself  the  question,  and  her  heart  answered,  "  Coming  events  cast 
their  shadows  before."  But  she  would  be  cheerful,  for  Charley's 
sake  she  would  cast  away  her  despondency  and  be  herself  again. 
She  made  the  endeavor,  and  for  a  few  minutes  succeeded  in  assum- 
ing her  wonted  gaiety.  But  it  was  a  desperate  effort,  and  could 
not  last. 


174  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

Charley  observed  the  marked  change  in  her  manner,,  and  it 
served  to  increase  the  sadness  which  was  brooding  so  heavily  over 
his  own  heart.  He  looked  on  that  sweet  face,  usually  so  radiant 
with  smiles,  and  its  thoughtful,  pensive  cast  rendering  it  tenfold 
more  beautiful,  heightened  the  sorrow  of  his  own  soul. 

And  those  large,  lustrous  eyes,  ever  the  home  of  gladness,  now, 
despite  herself,  suffused  with  tears,  spoke  to  his  trembling,  loving 
heart  in  tones  of  resistless  eloquence  the  deep  feeling  that  she  was 
struggling  to  suppress. 

Charley  led  her  slightly  apart  from  the  others,  and  seated  her 
beneath  the  wide-spread  boughs  of  an  old  oak  tree  that  crowned 
the  summit  of  the  gently  rising  slope.  The  moon  stole  through 
the  overhanging  arches  and  fell  in  silvery  shimmer  on  the  smoothly 
shorn  grass  at  their  feet. 

For  several  moments  the  two  remained  silent.  Charley  felt  his 
heart  bursting  to  tell  her  all  he  felt — all  he  hoped — all  he  feared— 
but  he  knew  not  where  to  begin.  '• 

"  Mary,"  he  said  at  length,  "  I  go  away  from  you  to-morrow. 
This  is  the  last  time  I  shall  see  you  for  months — perhaps  for  years 
— indeed,  Mary,  we  may  never  meet  again.  You  know  the  chances 
of  war  are  uncertain,"  and  he  paused,  unable  to. proceed.  Sup- 
pressing his  feelings,  he  resumed  :  "  We  may  never  meet  again  on 
earth,  Mary  ;  but  let  me  pledge  you  once  more,  here  beneath  these 
bending  heavens,  whose  myriad  beings  witness  the  vow,  that  in 
death  as  in  life  my  love  shall  be  yours.  I  need  not  tell  you  of  that 
love,  Mary  ;  you  know  its  depths— its  constancy.  But  I  felt  as  I 
sat  beside  you  on  that  mossy  siope  that  it  was  perhaps  asking  of 
you  too  great  a  sacrifice  to  remain  pledged  to  me,  when  there 
seems  to  be  so  little  promise  of  any  consummation  of  our  happi- 
ness. And  here,  Mary,  I  would  say — though  it  is  like  driving  the 
cold  steel  through  my  own  bosom — that  if  you  prefer,  I  will  release 
you  from  an  engagement  which,  under  the  present  circumstances, 
may  prove  unpleasant  to  you." 

She  turned  upon  him  those  large,  soft  eyes,  now  filled  with  tears, 
and  her  voice  was  low  and  tremulous.  "  Charley,  you  doubt  me, 
else  why  this  proposal  ?"  The  tears  gushed  from  her  eyes,  and 
streamed  down  over  her  sad  face. 

•"Doubt  you,  Mary — dou&t  you!  No!  no!"  he  replied,  with 
deep  earnestness,  and  he  threw  his  arm  around  her  and  drew  her 
to  his  bosom.  "Doubt  you! — never,  never,  Mary  !  Sooner  would 
I  doubt  the  words  of  Holy  Writ  than  the  love  which,  amid  change 
and  time,  has  shown  itself  unchanging — steadfast  as  the  founda- 
tions of  the  earth.  I  know  your  love  is  as  true  as  the  heavens 
themselves.  But,  Mary,  you  are  young,  beautiful,  admired,  court- 
ed, and  is  it  not  wrong — ask  your  own  heart  is  not  unjust  to  your- 
self— to  bind  yourself  to  one  who  has  not  now  the  remotest  pros- 
pect of  rendering  you  happy  1" 

"  If  you  do  not  doubt  me,  Charley,  and  will  promise  to  love  me 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  175 

always,  I  ask  no  more."  And  she  looked  up  into  his  face  with  such 
a  sweet,  trusting  smile,  that  Charley  felt  to  live  the  bliss  of  years 
in  those  few  fleeting  moments. 

"  It  is  enough,  Mary  !"  he  exclaimed,  while  his  tears  fell  thick 
and  fast.  "  I  ask  no  more.  I  shall  go,  feeling  in  the  depths  of 
my  soul  that,  come  what  may,  you  will  prove  constant  and  true. 
And  I  pledge  you  here,  before  the  Great  Jehovah,  whose  eye  looks 
now  upon  us,  and  the  shining  angels  around  His  throne,  that  never, 
never,  while  life  lasts,  shall  your  image  pass  from  its  sacred  tem- 
ple in  my  heart." 

He  drew  forth  a  locket,  and  threw  the  chain  about  her  neck. 
"  Look  at  that,  Mary,  when  1  am  gone,  and  remember  always  that 
I  love  you."  He  pressed  her  to  his  bosom,  and  kissed  her  long 
and  fervently. 

"  I  go  now,  Mary.  To  remain  is  but  to  torture  both  your  heart 
and  mine.  God  bless  you — God  bless  you  !"  He  kissed  her  once 
more,  and  leading  her  back  to  her  brother  and  friends,  bade  them 
farewell,  and  hastened  away. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 


THE  TRAP THE  TABLES  TURNED. 


On  the  velvet  grass,  beside  the  Big  Spring  at  Georgetown,  lay 
the  manly  form  of  Colonel  Morgan,  stretched  out  at  full  length, 
reading  the  Cincinnati  and  Louisville  papers  of  the  previous  day. 

"  The  trap  has  been  laid,"  said  the  Louisville  Journal,  "  and 
the  horse-thief  Morgan  has  fallen  into  it.  He  is  now  at  George- 
town, with  Frankfort  on  one  side  of  him,  Paris  and  Cynthiana  on 
the  other,  with  Lexington  in  his  front,  each  point  with  as  many 
men  as  he  has  in  his  whole  command.  There  is  no  way  of  escape 
for  him,  unless  he  decides  to  betake  himself  to  the  Ohio  river, 
where  he  will  find  ample  opportunity  for  cooling  the  ardor  of  his 
patriotism.  Caught  at  last !  Let  every  loyal  heart  rejoice  that 
this  traitor,  thief  and  coward  is  soon  to  meet  his  just  doom." 

"  We  may  expect  to  see  the  reckless  guerrilla  chief,  John  Mor- 
gan, soon  a  prisoner  in  our  city,"  said  the  Cincinnati  Gazette. 
"  Escape  is  now  impossible.    He  is  surrounded  on  all  sides,  and 


176  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

there  is  no  outlet,  from  the  mesh  which  environs  him,  save  through 
our  city  to  Fort  Warren." 

"  Caught  at  last,"  wrote  the  editor  of  the  Commercial.  "  John 
Morgan,  the  noted  bandit  and  horse-thief,  is  at  length  entrapped. 
Reliable  information  locates  him  and  his  dirty  followers  at  George- 
town, completely  surrounded  by  our  troops,  who,  under  their  gal- 
lant leaders,  will  soOn  make  an  easy  prey  of  their  victim.  He  is 
now  just  in  the  situation  we  have  long  desired  to  place  him,  and 
the  next  intelligence  we  look  for  will  be  the  announcement  that  the 
whole  gang  is  bagged." 

"  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  !"  broke  out  the  Colonel,  as,  dashing  the  papers 
from  him,  he  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  approached  the  murmuring 
spring. 

"  What's  that,  Colonel,  that  pleases  you  so  ?"  asked  his  Ad- 
jutant. 

"  Nothing,  Alston,  except  that  we  are  now  completely  entrapped 
by  the  Yankees  ;  surrounded  on  all  sides — no  way  of  escape.  Here, 
read  for  yourself.  Great  and  mighty  prophets,  these  Northern 
editors.  But  we'll  see,"  and  the  Colonel  stooped  and  drank  a  re- 
freshing draught  from  the  cool,  crystal  waters  of  the  old  spring. 

"  Castleman  has  left?"  said  the  Colonel,  looking  round  from  his 
stooping  position  to  the  Adjutant,  who  stood  reading  the  papers, 
highly  amused  at  the  startling  announcements. 

"  Two  or  three  hours  since,  Colonel.  Tbey  have  already  reach- 
ed the  railroad,  and  successfully  accomplished  their  business,  I 
hope,  and  are  now  menacing  Lexington  from  the  Winchester  pike." 

'*  We  must  leave  here  at  ah  early  hour  to-morrow  morning,  be- 
fore sun-up.  Let  everything  be  ready,  Alston.  Harrison,  with  a 
company  of  seventy-five  men,  must  menace  Lexington  from  the- 
Georgetown  pike,  as  soon  as  the  day  dawns.  If  necessary,  we 
must  drive  their  prickets  into  the  very  town." 

The  Adjutant  bowed,  and  left  to  carry  out  the  orders.  Col. 
Morgan  threw  himself  on  the  green  sward  to  perfect  his  plans. 

The  evening  was  very  warm.  The  thermometer  stood  at  ninety, 
but,  the  thick  foliage  of  the  grand  old  oak,  beneath  which  the 
Colonel  reposed,  shut  out  the  sun's  scorching  rays.  The  breezes 
danced  among  the  leaves  overhead — the  clear,  limpid  waters 
gurgled  at  his  feet. 

"  Dotards  !"  exclaimed  Morgan  to  himself,  laughing.  "  Do 
they  think  I  would  allow  myself  to  be  hemmed  in  and  taken  by 
them?  Old  Prentice  will  have  another  tale  to  tell  his  gullible 
readers  before  the  setting  of  to-morrow's  sun." 

Colonel  Morgan  took  a  calm  survey  of  the  position  of  affairs. 
All  Indiana,  Ohio  and  Kentucky  were  aroused,  and  from  every 
available  point  troops  had  been  forwarded  for  the  purpose  of  sur- 
rounding him  and  "  bagging  his  whole  force." 

Heavy  reinforcements  had  been  sent  from  Cincinnati  to  Cyn- 
thiana,  and  from  thence  to  Paris.     A  large  force  was  assembled 


I 
OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  177 

at  Lexington,  at  Frankfort,  and  at  Louisville.  But,  as  the  road 
was  destroyed  between  Lexington  and  Frankfort,  no  reinforce- 
ments could  be  furnished  the  former  city  by  the  latter.  Lexing- 
ton, if  threatened,  must  depend  for  succor  on  Paris.  This  would 
relieve  this  point,  and  also  greatly  weaken  Cynthiana. 

Castleman,  on  the  morrow,  would  advance  upon  Lexington 
from  the  direction  of  Winchester.  Harrison,  with  his  men,  would 
at  the  same  time  threaten  the  city  from  Georgetown.  This  must 
necessarily  create  a  panic,  and  the  withdrawal  of  troops  from  the 
line  of  the  Lexington  and  Covington  railroad. 

"What's  the  news  from  Frankfort?"  asked  Morgan  of  his 
courier,  as  he  rode  up,  covered  with  dust  and  perspiration. i 

"  About  three  thousand  troops,  Colonel,  and  fortifying.  Ex- 
pecting an  attack  every  hour." 

"Ah,  hah!"  ejaculated  the  Colonel  to'  himself.  "All  right — 
just  as  I  desire." 

The  morning  sun  was  just  beginning  to  beam  above  the  eastern 
horizon,  when  Colonel  Morgan,  at  the  head  of  his  men,  set  oft*  at  a 
rapid  pace  on  the  road  that  leads  from  Georgetown  to  Cynthiana. 
They  had  proceeded  but  a  few  yards,  when  a  courier  dashed  to 
his  side. 

"  How  is  Lexington  ?"  inquired  the  Colonel,  cheeking  his  horse. 

"  All  in  consternation,  Colonel,  since  yesterday  evening.  It  is 
believed  that  our  men,  to  the  number  of  several  thousand,  are 
moving  on  that  place  from  Winchester ;  that  the  road  to  Paris 
is  "destroyed,  and  that  you  would  attack  the  city  early  this  morn- 
ing. Couriers  were  immediately  dispatched  to  Paris  for  reinforce- 
ments just  as  soon  as  the  news  reached  Lexington,  and  troops  had 
already  commenced  to  pour  in  from  that  point  when  I  left,  about 
two  hours  ago." 

V  Did  you  meet  Captain  Harrison  and  his  men?" 

"  1  did,  sir,  half  way  to  Lexington." 

"Trapped,  bagged,  indeed!''  said  Morgan.  **  I'll  show  them 
who's  bagged." 

The  July  sun  poured  down  his  hot,  scorching  rays  on  the  mov- 
ing column,  as  it  dashed  along  the  dusty  limestone  road.  The 
springs  and  streams  were  dry,  and  not  a  drop  of  water  could  be 
obtained  for  man  or  horse,  after  leaving  Elkhorn  creek  at  George- 
town. 

It  was  just  beyond  the  noon  when  the  wearied  and  dust-covered 
column  of  almost  famished  men  was  ordered  to  halt,  three  miles 
from  Cynthiana.  The  scouts  that  had  been  sent  forward  to  as- 
certain the  position  of  affairs  at  that  place  returned,  bringing  the 
■intelligence  that  a  large  force  of  infantry,  cavalry  and  artillery 
was  well  posted  in  the  town  for  its  defence. 

"  Call  Major  Gano,"  ordered  Colonel  Morgan.  "Major,"  said 
he  to  that  officer,  who  promptly  appeared  in  response  to  the  call, 
"  take  your  Texas  squadron  and  make  your  way  around  so  as  to 
12 


173  RAIDS  AND  ROitANCE 

enter  the  town  from  the  right ;  arid  you,  Colonel  Harper,  with 
your  regiment  of  Georgians,  cross  the  river  and  get  into  the  rear. 
Lieutenant  Harrison,  you,  with  your  artillery,  accompany  me. 
The  attack  will  be  made  by  me  in  front  in  half  an  hour. 

The  Texas  and  Georgia  regiments  dashed  off  to  take  the  posi- 
tions assigned  them. 

Colonel  Morgan,  at  the  head  of  his  men,  moved  down  the  pike. 
When  within  a  half  mile  of  the  town,  orders  were  given  for  four 
hundred  men  to  dismount  and  secure  their  horses  in  a  woodland 
to  the  right.  The  others  were  to  remain  mounted,  and  dash  upon 
the  cavalry  of  the  enemy,  his  infantry  being  in  most  excellent 
position,  just  outside  the  town,  protected  by  a  stone  fence. 

The  engagement  commenced  by  the  firing  of  a  volley  from  the 
enemy  upon  the  advancing  column.  This  was  quickly  responded 
to  by  Harrison's  battery ." ' ' 

"Forward!"  rang  out,  and  the  men,  inspired  by  their  leader's 
presence  and  daring,  rushed  on  the  concealed  foe.  The  Federal 
cavalry  were  soon  driven  back  before  the  impetuous  onset  of  the 
Confederates.  But  the  infantry,  protected  by  the  stone  fence, 
held  their  position,  and  continued  to  pour  volley  after  volley  into 
the  advancing  ranks. 

-NHere  and  there  fell  one  and  another  killed  or  wounded.  But 
the  moving  force  pressed  steadily  on.  Showers'  of  bullets  cut  the 
air  and  sped  on  their  work  of  death.  The  loud  and  rapid  dis- 
charge of  artillery  stunted  the  ear  with  deafening  roar.  For  an 
hour  the  contest  raged  with  the  wildest  fierceness  on  both  sides. 
The  Federals  knowing  their  advantage  in  position,  and  stimulated 
by  the  cheering  words  of  their  commanders,  were  determined  not 
to  yield. 

But  they  could  no  longer  withstand  the  iriipetuous  charges  of 
Morgan's  men,  who  fought  with  more  than  their  wonted  despera- 
tion, and  finally  they  began  to  retreat.  They  fell  slowly  back, 
taking  advantage  of  every  fence  and  house  to  shelter  themselves, 
and  fire  upon  their  pursuers.  There  was  a  stone  wall  within  the 
suburbs  of  the  town,  behind  which  a  squad  of  men  had  taken  cover, 
and  from  this  protected  point  they  poured  into  the  Confederate 
ranks  a  sharp  and  destructive  fire.  They  could  be  dislodged 
only  by  a  direct  charge  upon  their  position.  Private  Moore,  of 
Louisiana,  heading  a  company  of  twenty-five  men,  rushed  upon 
it  in  face*  of  a  rapid  fire  of  musketry,  and,  leaping  the  fence,  rout- 
ed the  enemy,  who  fled  in  wild  confusion,  throwing  aside  guns 
and  haversacks  in  their  precipitate  flight. 

The  Home  Guard  made  a  sudden  rush  for  the  Court  House, 
but  this  movement  had  been  anticipated,  and  a  detachment  of 
Confederate  cavalry  swept  round  and  cut  off  their  retreat.  The 
regulars  were  hemmed  in  between  Morgan  in  front  and  Gano  on 
the  right,  while  the  Georgians  moved  up  in  the  rear.  Thus  com- 
pletely surrounded,  they  saw  nothing  before  them  but  a  hand  to 
hand  fight. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  179 

Suddenly  white  handkerchiefs  were  observed  streaming  from 
the  points  of  many  bayonets,  and  waving  from  windows.  The 
battle  was  over.    The  vanquished  enemy  had  surrendered. 

Four  hundred  and  twenty  persons  were  soon  paraded  in  front 
of  the  Court  House  for  parole  ;  among  whom  were  seventy  Home 
Guards. 

Colonel  Morgan,  while  crossing  the  street,  had  his  attention  ar- 
rested by  a  little  girl,  who  ran  wildly  along  shrieking  with  fright. 
He  caught  the  child  in  his  arms,  and  asked  her  what  was  the 
matter. 

She  laid  her  little  bare  head  on  his  shoulder,  and  sobbed  wildly. 
He  smoothed  her  tangled  hair,  patted  her  stained  cheeks,  and  with 
soothing  voice  endeavored  to  assuage  her  grief. 

It  was  several  moments  before  she  could  speak. 

"  Oh,  my  father — my  dear  father !  They  have  got  him  !  I 
will  never  see  him  no  more!"  And  the  little  trembling  creature 
burst  into  a  fresh  paroxysm  of  tears. 

"  Where  is  your  father,  my  child  ?"  asked  the  Colonel,  in  a  soft 
tone,  at  the  same  time  continuing  his  caresses. 

"  The  secesh  has  got  him,  sir.  They'll  put  him  in  the  big  pris- 
on.   Aunt  Nancy  told  me  so." 

"  And  where  is  your  mother,  my  child  ?" 

"  I  haven't  got  no  mother,  sir.  She  went  up  to  heaven  when 
I  was  a  little  baby." 

Colonel  Morgan  felt  the  tears  rush  to  his  eyes.  He  thought  of 
his  own  little  girl  and  her  mother  now  in  heaven.  He  understood 
the  whole  case,  and  bearing  the  child  in  his  arms,  he  moved  into 
the  midst  of  the  prisoners. 

"  Whose  child  is  this  ]"  asked  the  Colonel.  "  Is  her  father 
here  I" 

A  man — one  of  the  Home  Guard — rushed  forward. 

"  It  is  my  child,  Colonel.  Thank  you — thank  you,  for  your 
kindness,"  said  the  grateful  father,  as  the  tears  streamed  down 
his  face. 

It  was  an  affecting  incident — such  an  one  as  sometimes  occurs 
to  relieve  the  tiorrors  of  dread-visaged  war.  And  none  of  those 
who  witnessed  it  were  ever  known  to  call  Colonel  Morgan  harsh 
names  after  that. 

The  men  were  speedily  paroled  and  sent  under  an  escort  to  Fal- 
mouth, where  they  'took  cars  for  Cincinnati.  Colonel  Morgan 
found  himself  possessor  of  a  fine  12-pounder  brass  piece  of  artil- 
lery, a  large  number  of  small  arms,  a  great  supply  of  commissary 
and  medical  stores,  tents,  ammunition,  and  about  three  hundred 
Government  horses.  The  horses — such  as  were  deemed  fit — were 
selected  by  the  men ;  the  stores  of  all  kinds,  together  with  the  am-  f 
munition,  were  destroyed. 

The  command  rested  in  Cynthiana  for  the  night,  ready  to  set 
out  on  their  victorious  march  at  an  early  hour  on  the  following 
morning. 


180  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 


CHAPTER    XL. 

PARIS,    RICHMOND,  CRAB    ORCHARD,    SOMERSET. 


The  alarm  and  uncertainty  which  pervaded  the  Federal  forces 
in  Central  Kentucky  at  the  brilliant  exploits  of  Colonel  Morgan, 
and  the  rapidity  of  his  movements,  can  scarcely  be  conceived. 
Lexington  and  Paris  both  threatened,  Cynthiana  taken,  no  one 
could  decide  which  would  be  the  next  point  of  attack.  Lexing- 
ton called  upon  Paris  for  reinforcements — Paris  in  reply  demanded 
succor  of  Lexington.  But  the  condition  of  the  latter  city  became 
so  hazardous,  menaced  as  it  was  from  the  direction  of  Georgetown 
and  Richmond,  that  it  was  finally  decided  to  concentrate  the  troops 
within  its  limits  for  its  defence.  Accordingly,  the  forces  were  or- 
dered from  Paris  to  Lexington,  leaving  the  formor  town  wholly  at 
the  mercy  of  the  advancing  foe. 

On  the  19th  of  July,  the  day  following  the  capture  of  Cynthiana, 
Colonel  Morgan  moved  upon  Paris, .now  entirely  undefended. 
When  within  a  few  miles  of  the  city,  he  met  a  flag  of  truce,  tert- 
dering  him .  the  peaceful  and  quiet  possession  of  the  place,  and 
when  he  entered  the  streets,  cheers  and  welcomes  rang  out  on  the 
air.  Remaining  here  through  the  night,  Colonel  Morgan  under- 
stood through  his  scouts  that  very  nearly  the  entire  force  from 
Lexington  was  being  moved  upon  Paris,  for  the  purpose  of  attack- 
ing him.  Not  desiring  an  engagement,  when  it  could  be  avoided, 
Colonel  Morgan  determined  to  fall  back  upon  Richmond,  prepara- 
tory to  leaving  the  State.  Accordingly,  orders  were  issued  to 
the  men  to  be  ready  to  march  early  the  following  morning. 
Meanwhile,  pickets  kept  watch,  lest  at  any  time  they  should  be 
surprised. 

As  the  Confederates  were  setting  out  the  next  day  towards 
Richmond,  they  discovered  the  Federals  moving  towards  the  town 
from  Lexington.  Colonel  Morgan  called  a  halt,  and  by  a  little 
maneuvering  so  seared  the  Yankees,  who  supposed  he  intended  to 
flank  them,  that  they  wheeled  about  and  made  a  quick  retreat. 
Thus  relieved  of  their  presence,  Colonel  Morgan  was  enabled  to 
bring  off  all  his  guns  and  stores  without  molestation  or  detriment. 
The  only  loss  sustained  was  that  of  one  picket,  who,  it  was  sup- 
posed, was  surprised  and  captured  by  the  enemy  in  their  ad- 
vance. 

From  Paris  the  Confederate  force  moved  to  Richmond.  Here 
the  warmest  enthusiasm  greeted  them  on  all  sides.  Their  pas- 
page  through  the  town  to  their  encampment  beyond  was  a  grand 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  131 

ovation,  each  individual  vieing  with  his  neighbor  in  his  endeavors 
to  manifest  his  delight  and  approbation.  Ladies  showered  bou- 
quets and  waved  handkerchiefs — children  waved  handkerchiefs 
and  smiled — men,  old  and  young,  smiled,  and  bowed,  and  hurra- 
ed. Ample  provision  was  made  for  a  luxurious  repast  for  the 
whole  command,  who  partook  of  the  kindly  cheer  with  right  good 
zest,  their  appetites  being  well  developed  by  their  long  and  weary 
ride.  Several  recruits  joined  them  here,  who  were  furnished  with 
arms  and  mounted. 

It  bad  been  Colonel  Morgan's  intention  to  remain  in  Richmond 
several  days,  thereby  giving  an  opportunity  for  the  enrollment  of 
many  who  were  desirous  to  enlist  under  his  standard,  but  being 
informed  that  a  large  cavalry  force  had  been  sent  out  by  way  of 
Danville  to  intercept  and  cut  off  his  retreat,  he  determined  to 
thwart  their  plans*  by  pushing  forward  to  Crab  Orchard,  which 
point  he  reached  the  22d  of  July,  at  day-break. 
■  There  he  found  about  one  hundred  and  twenty  wagons  and  one 
million  dollars'  worth  of  stores,  all  of  which  was  given  into  the 
hands  of  his  men  to  be  destroyed,  as  it  was  impossible  to  remove 
anything  over  that  rugged,  broken  country.  The  boys  gave  them- 
selves to  the  work  of  burning  and  breaking  with  great  zest,  and 
soon  the  gigantic  task  was  accomplished  and  the  whole  column 
again  on  the  advance  towards  Somerset,  which  was  reached  at  sun- 
down of  the  same  day.  This  point  was  the  depot  of  the  Federal 
army  at  Cumberland  Gap,  and  contained  large  stores.  Colonel 
Morgan  feeling  entire  safety,  took  possession  of  the  telegraph  of- 
fice, and  countermanded  every  order  of  Gen.  Boyle  with  regard  to 
the  movement  of  the  troops  still  in  pursuit  of  him.  There  another 
million  dollars'  worth  of  Federal  property  was  destroyed,  aud  a 
thousand  stand  of  arms  recaptured  that  had  been  taken  from  Gen. 
Zollicoffer's  forces  at  the  memorable  and  disastrous  engagement  of 
Fishing  Creek. 

Having  here  rested  his  troops,  Col.  Morgan  moved  forward  to 
Sparta,  which  point  he  reached  July  24th,  having  been  absent  on 
his  expedition  just  twenty  days,  during  which  time  he  "  captured 
(and  parolled)  over  twelve  hundred  prisoners,  seven  thousand  stand 
of  arms,  one  gun  aud  destroyed,  at  lowest  computation,  seven  and 
a  half  million  dollars'  worth  of  stores,  arms  and  subsistence,  be- 
sides hospital  buildings,  bridges  and  other  property.  Besides  this, 
with  the  loss  of  only  ninety  men,  he  dispersed  over  seventeen  hun- 
dred Home  Guards,  captured  seventeen  towns,  in  which  he  destroy- 
ed war  material,  and  marched  above  one  thousand  miles,  and  re- 
cruited his  force  of  eight  hundred  and  seventy  men,  to  twelve 
hundred." 

After  Col.  Morgan's  return  from  Kentucky  into  Tennessee,  the 
latter  part  of  July,  he  removed  his  headquarters  to  Hartsville,  a 
small  town  on  the  north  bank  of  the  Cumberlaud,  some  twelve  or 
fifteen  miles  from  Gallatin,  in  a  direct  line,  but  muoh  farther  than 
this  by  the  river. 


182  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

There  was  a  Federal  force,  mostly  Kentuckians,  in  possession  of 
Gallatin,  commanded  by  Col.  Boone.  Col.  Morgan  determined  to 
capture  the  town,  Yankees  and  all,  and  to  this  end  sent  a  force 
under  Capt.  Desha  to  execute  his  purpose.  This  was  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  12th  of  August.  The  detachment  was  accompanied  by 
George  A.  Ellsworth,  telegraph  operator,  who  had,  on  so  many  oc- 
casions, rendered  Col.  Morgan  valuable  assistance  while  in  Ken- 
tucky. The  morning  was  beautifully  bright ;  the  sun  had  scarcely 
risen  when  the  party  found  themselves  within  two  miles  of  the 
town.  Dashing  forward  so  as  to  catch  the  Federal  Colonel  una- 
'  wares,  the  Confederates  were  demanding  the  surrender  of  the  place 
before  the  Yankees  knew  aught  of  their  unwelcome  presence  in  their 
vicinity.  The  movement  was'comme  il  fait.  The  Federals  were 
completely  surprised.  No  resistance  whatever  Was  offered,  but  sur- 
render came  as  it  had  been  a  premeditated  thing.  The  men,  with 
their  Colonel  was  parolled  by  Captain  Desha.  When,  however, 
the  parolled  Colonel  and  his  men  reached  Louisville,  a  few  days 
afterwards,  they  were  arrested  on  a  charge  of  cowardice,  and  sent 
forward  to  Camp  Chase  for  imprisonment. 

-Col.  Boone  was  severely  reprimanded  for  yielding  his  command 
into  the  hande  of  the  enemy  without  a  struggle ;  but  he  argued 
that  resistance  under  the  circumstances,  was  wholly  useless.  They 
were  surrounded  by  the  Confederates  without  a  moment's  warn- 
ing. His  men  were  not  under  arms,  there  was  no  ©rganization, 
nor  could  any  be  effected  before  the  rebels  were  upon  them. 

While  Captain  Desha,  assisted  by  Captain  McCann  of  the 
Cheatham  Rifles,  was  scaring  the  Yankee  Kentuckians  out  of  all 
sense  of  propriety  by  marching  upon  them  sans  cercmonie,  and 
claiming  them  as  prisoners,  Mr.  Ellsworth  was  playing  his  part  of 
the  game  by  annoying  the  enemy  with  despatches.  Dashing  into 
Gallatin,  on  his  fine  chestnut  sorrel  steed,  booted  and  spurred  like 
any  other  brave  knight  of  the  Southern  cross,  he  rode  quickly  up 
to  the  principal  hotel  and  inquired  in  quite  a  peremptory  tone,  for 
the  telegraph  office. 

"  At  the  depot,  sir,"  replied  th«  waiter  of  the  public  house  look- 
ing at  him  in  blank  astonishment. 

Ellsworth  hesitated  no  longer.  Spurring  his  horse  he  galloped- 
off  at  full  dash  to  the  depot.  'Alighting,  hurriedly,  and  throwing 
the  rein  over  his  horse's  head,  he  burst  open  the  door,  and  sprung 
up  stairs  to  the  bed-room  of  the  sleeping  operator,  who,  aroused  by 
the  dreadful  noise,  looked  up  from  his  bed  to  see — oh  horror  ! — a 
"rebel"  standing  over  him  with  a  six-shooter  presented  to  his  head. 

Pale  with  affright  at  this  most  fearful  apparition,  he  sat  stark 
upright  in  the  bed.  Could  it  be  so  ?  He  rubbed  his  eyes  and 
gazed  wildly  up.  There  it  stood.  Was  it  ghost  or  de'il,  or  what 
was  tenfold  worse  than  either — an  avenging  rebel  1  His  hair  stood 
on  end.  His  eyes  stared  fearfully  from  their  sockets ;  his  lips  were 
pale  and  motionless ;  he  trembled  from  head  to  foot,  like  one  sud- 
denly seized  with  a  strong  ague. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  183 

"  Why  are  you  so  scared,  man  l"  said  Ellsworth  to  him.  "  I 
do  not  want  your  life — behave  yourself,  and  you  have  nothing  to 
fear.  Resist,  and  you  are  a  dead  man.  Dress  yourself  and  come 
with  me ;  Colonel  Morgan  needs  your  services  in  the  room  below." 

The  poor  affrighted  operator,  somewhat  reassured,  sprung  from 
his  bed  at  the  word  of  command  and  hastily  donned  his  apparel. 
As  he  gave  the  last  of  a  few  hurried  strokes  to  his  hair,  Ellsworth, 
impatient  of  waiting,  turned  upon  him  and  said: 

"  Now,  follow  me,  sir,  to  the  room  below." 

The  man  seized  his  hat  and  obeyed  the  command  with  alacrity. 

"  Now,  show  me  all  your  signals.  Mind,  no  cheat.  I  will  not 
be  imposed  on,"  said  Ellsworth,  sternly,  as  the  two  reached  the 
room  and  stood  beside  the  desk. 

Had  the  operator  thought  for  a  moment  of  deception,  the  blood- 
thirsty look  of  the  huge  revolver  which  Ellsworth  still  held  in  his 
hand,  would  have  dissipated  any  such  intention. 

"  Now,  let  me  test  the  line  to  Nashville  and  Louisville." 

The  Yankee,  with  a  gracious  smile,  stepped  aside. 

¥  O.  K.,"  said  Ellsworth  ;  "  what  is  your  earliest  office  hour?" 

"  Seven  thirty  minutes,  sir,"  responded  the  operator,  bowing  ob- 
sequiously. 

"  And  it  is  now  just  five,"  said  Ellsworth,  taking  out  his  watch 
and  looking  at  the  time ;  .two  hours  and  a  half  before  I  can  begin 
my  work."  , 

Ellsworth  ordered  breakfast  for  himself  and  prisoner,  and  the 
two  sat  down  side  by  side  to  the  steaming  coffee  and  smoking 
rolls  as  if  they  had  always  been  the  veriest  cronies. 

"Seven  o'clock!  we  must  to  our  work,  sir!"  and  Ellsworth 
escorted  his  new-found  friend  from  the  breakfast  table  back  to  the 
office. 

Placing  Mr.  Brooks  outside  the  office  under  guard,  Ellsworth 
entered  and  took  possession,  feeling  that  he  sufficiently  understood 
matters  to  communicate  with  any  point. 

The  signal  was  given  at  seven  and  ten  minutes.  It  was  from 
the  depot  office  in  Nashville. 

"  Train  left  here  for  Louisville  on  time." 

Another  signal,  and  the  operator  at  Franklin,  Kentucky,  in- 
formed Gallatin  that  the  train  had  left  on  time  for  the  South. 

Ellsworth  stepped  to  the  door. 

"  Tell  Captain  McCann  I  wish  to  see  him  at  this  place  imme- 
diately," he  said  to  a  Confederate  soldier,  who  was  standing  near. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  Captain  rushed  into  the  room. 

"  Any  trouble,  Ellsworth  V 

"  The  train  from  Frankfort  will  be  due,  Captain,  in  a  very  little 
while.     Had  you  not  as  well  prepare  to  take  charge  of  her  ?" 

"  Certainly,  certainly,  Ellsworth.  I  will  do  so  with  pleasure  ;" 
and  the  Captain  dashed  out,  called  together  his  men  and  posted 
them  in  proper  position  for  the  proposed  business. 


184  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

Soon  the  train  came  steaming  on,  all  unconscious  of  danger. 
She' had  scarcely  reached  the  water  tank,  just  outside  the  town, 
when  the  Confederates  very  politely  made  known  their  desire  to 
take  her  in  charge. 

This  was  readily  assented  to  by  the  engineer  and  conductor, 
who  saw  that  resistance  or  escape  was  not  for  a  moment  to  be 
thought  of. 

The  train  from  Nashville  was  due,  but  there  was  no  indications 
yet  of  her  arrival. 

Ellsworth  seating  himself,  asked  of  the  Nashville  operator  : 
"  Train  No.  6  not  yet  arrived.  What  can  be  the  trouble  with  her  V* 

The  reply  soon  came.  "  Guess  Morgan's  got  her  ;  she  left  on 
time  with  twenty-four  cars,  six  loaded." 

Bowling  Green  called  Gallatin.  "  Where  is  the  Nashville  train1? 
Heard  anything  from  her  V 

"  Not  yet  arrived,"  responded  Ellsworth. 

Bowling  Green  then  called  Nashville.  "  Gallatin  says  No.  6 
not  yet  arrived ;  have  you  heard  from  it  ?" 

Nashville,  in  reply,  said  :  "No  ;  they  left  on  time." 

Bowling  Green,  quite  purturbed  and  beginning  to  suspect  foul 
play,  called  to  Nashville :  "Any  rumors  of  the  enemy  between 
Nashville  and  Gallatin  1" 

"Nary  rumor!"  was  the  laconic  answer. 

Gallatin  was  then  informed  by  Nashville  that  the  passenger 
train  had  left  on  time,  bound  north.. 

Inquiry  after  inquiry  was  made  of  Gallatin  with  regard  to  the 
two  trains,  both  by  Nashville  and  Bowling  Green.  The  invaria- 
ble response  of  Gallatin  was,  "  Not  yet  arrived." 

Eleven  o'clock  came.  Nashville,  as  if  aroused  by  some  sudden 
fury,  began  to  call  on  Gallatin  with  great  earnestness. 

Ellsworth 'suspected  the  cause.  The  cars,  having  obtained  in- 
formation of  the  occupancy  of  Gallatin  by  the  Confederates,  had 
suddenly  put  back  to  Nashville  aud  given  the  alarm.  Questions 
were  asked  which  Ellsworth  did  not  dare  to  answer,  for  fear  of 
betrayal. 

He  stepped  to  the  door  and  invited  in  the  Federal  operator,  Mr. 
Brooks. 

"  Now,  sir,"  said  Ellsworth  to  him,  "  I  want  you  to  answer 
Nashville  in  the  most  satisfactory  manner.  I  shall  listen  to  your 
replies,  and  if  there  is  anything  wrong,  it  will  have  to  be  atoned 
for  by  a  life  during  the  war  in  a  Dixie  prison." 

"  All  shall  be  right,  sir,"  responded  the  accommodating  opera- 
tor, glad  to  be  at  his  old  work  again. 

Nashville,  with  suspicions  highly  aroused,  called  to  Gallatin : 
"What  was  the  name  of  that  young  lady  you  accompanied  to 
Major  Foster's  1" 

"  Be  careful,"  enjoined  Ellsworth,  leaning  over  the  shoulder  of 
the  operator.    "  Give  a  correct  reply  !" 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  135 

"  I  don't  remember  of  going  to  Major  Foster's  wi^a  any  young 
lady,"  was  the  response. 

"  What  about  that  nitric  acid  I  sent  you  the  other  day  1"  asked 
Nashville. 

"  You  sent  me  no  nitric  acid." 

"  Is  that  correct?"  and  Ellsworth  eyed  the  operator  sternly. 

"  Correct,  sir." 
^Nashville,  yet  suspicious  ■  u  Mr.  Marshall,  the  Superintendent 
of  Railroads,  is  not  yet  satisfied  that  you  are  not  Morgan's  opera- 
tor, and  wishes  you  to  tell  him  who  you  desired  to  take  your  place 
while  you  were  gone  on  leave  of  absence,  how  long  you  wished  to 
be  gone,  and  where  did  you  wish  to  go  V 

Gallatin  responded :  "  Tell  Mr.  Marshall  that  I  wished  Mr. 
Clayton  to  take  my  place,  while  I  got  a  week's  leave  to  go  to 
Cincinnati, 

Nashville  was  convinced,  and  soou  there  came  over  the  wires 
the  following  order: 
"  To  Murphy,  Conductor,  Gallatin  : 

"  You  will  run  to  Edgefield  Junction  to  meet  and  pass  trains 
Nos.  4  and  6,  and  pass  them  both  at  that  point.  Answer  how  you 
understand.  B.  Marshall. 

The  answer  was  promptly  returned,  that  the  instructions  would 
be  obeyed. 

Nashville  informed  Ellsworth  that  "  trains  Nos.  4  and  6  had  left 
again  at  eleven  fifteen  minutes." 

About  4  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  Nashville  again  called  lustily 
on  Gallatin :  "  Trains  Nos.  4  and  6  are  back  again,  the  second 
time.  We  have  positive  information  that  the  enemy  is  in  posses- 
sion of  Gallatin.     Where  is  Murphy  ?" 

It  was  unnecessary  to  practice  the  deception  farther.  The  cars 
would  not  come. 

At  five  o'clock  Ellsworth  sent  the  following  to  George  D. 
Prentice : 

x  "Gallatin,  August  12,  1362. 

"  George  D.  Prentice,  Louisville,  Ky.  : 

"  Your  prediction,  in  yesterday's^  paper,  regarding  my  where- 
abouts, is  like  most  of  the  items  from  your  pen.  You  had  better 
go  to  Jeffersonville  to  sleep  to-night. 

"John  H.  Morgan, 

"  Commanding  Brigade." 

A  lady,  beautiful  and  sprightly,  accompanied  by  Capt.  McCann, 
and  two  other  ladies,  made  her  appearance  in  the  office,  and  was 
introduced  to  Mr.  Ellsworth.  ' 

"  Will  you,  Mr.  Ellsworth,  send  a  message  to  Prentice  for  me?" 
she  said,  laughing. 

"Assuredly  I  will,  with  pleasure." 

Sheturned  to  the  desk,  and  hurriedly  wrote  her  dispatch  : 


186  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

"  Gallatin,  August  12,  1862. 
"  George  D.  Prentice,  Louisville,  Ky. : 

"  Your  friend,  Colonel  John  H.  Morgan,  and  his  brave  followers, 
are  enjoying  the  hospitalities  of  this  town,  to-day. 

"  Wouldn't  you  like  to  be  here  1  The  Colonel  has  seen  your 
$100,000  reward  for  his  head,  and  offers  $100,000  better  foryours* 
at  short  range. 

"  Wash.  Morgan,  whom  you  published  in  your  paper  some  time 
ago,  when  he  was  in  Knoxville,  accompanies  his  cousin  John, 
with  four  hundred  Indians.    He  seeks  no  scalp  but  yours. 

"A  Secesh  Lady." 

Mr.  Brooks,  who  was  now  released  from  his  military  position,  as 
prisoner,  joined  in  the  conversation  of  the  merry  party,  with  as 
mcuh  zest  as  any  one.  He  seemed  to  enjoy  highly  the  whole 
day's  proceedings,  and  even  jested  over  his  morning's  fright.' 

The  party  repaired  to  the  house  of  the  lady,  where,  with  the 
assembled  fair  of  the  good  town  of  Gallatin,  the  heroes  of  the  day 
passed  the  evening  with  song  and  dance,  and  the  graphic  recital  of 
thrilling  adventure.  Every  manifestation  of  joy  that  the  citizens 
of  Gallatin  could  give  at  their  release  from  Yankee  thraldom,  was 
displayed  by  all  classes. 

Captains  Desha  and  McCann,  and  their  men,  were  welcomed  to 
the  best  cheer  the  town  could  offer — were  feted  and  toasted — and 
smiled  upon  by  bright  eyes,  until  they  were  made  to  appreciate,  in 
some  degree,  at  least,  the  great  favor  they  had  bestowed  on  the 
grateful  inhabitants. 


CHAPTER  XLI. 


0ALLAT1\ — ITS     REVERSES. 


The  great  joy  of  the  good  people  of  Gallatin  at  being  relieved 
from  Federal  domination,  by  the  brilliant  and  successful  attack  of 
the  Southrons,  under  Captains  Desha  and  McCann,  was  soon 
turned  to  mourning,  by  the  sudden  reoccupation  of  their  town  by 
the  enemy. 

Nashville  was  aroused  when  she  heard  that  Boone  and  his  men 
had  been  seized  upon  by  the  Confederates,  and  the  Yankees  were 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  -  187 

determined,  to  be  avenged  for  the  loss,  by  repossessing  Gallatin, 
capturing  the  hated  Morgan  and  his  men,  if  possible  to  do  so,  and, 
in  the  event  of  failure  in  this  object,  to  wreak  vengeance  on  the 
defenceless  inhabitants  of  the  town  and  country. 

Accordingly,  an  Indiana  regiment,  headed  by  one  Colonel  Hef- 
feren,  set  out  from  Nashville  to  avenge  the  dignity  of  the  Federal 
'arms  on  the  audacious  rebels,  who  had  dared  to  molest  them  in 
their  fancied  security. 

The  Federals  proceeded  to  Gallatin,  but,  found  no  Confederates 
upon  whom  to  be  revenged.  But  their  insatiable  cruelty  must  be 
gratified,  and  with  that  tiendishness  characteristic  of  the  Yankee 
soldier,  they  sought  out  the  aged  and  peaceful  citizens,  and  dragged 
them  from  their  homes,  to  incarcerate  them  in  their  wretched  dun- 
geons. 

From  house  to  house  these  armed  wretches  proceeded,  bursting 
open  doors,  rushing  from  room  to  room,  using  the  most  revolting 
language  to  unprotected  females,  dragging  forth,  with  abuse  and 
cruelty,  old  men  whose  only  crime  was  daring  to  oppose  such  in- 
human proceedings,  and  a  government  that  would  sanction  and 
support  them. 

Store  doors  were  forced  by  this  lawless  mob,  dressed  in  the  uni- 
form of  United  States  soldiers  ;  the  owners,  were  seized  and  placed 
under  guard,  and  all  their  goods,  either  appropriated  or  wantonly 
destroyed.  A  squad  of  fifteen  of  these  armed  ruffians,  with  de- 
moniac yells  aud  imprecations,  rushed  upon  the  Masonic  Lodge, 
drove  in  the  door,  and  with  the  fury  of  madmen,  upset  and  broke 
chairs,  tables,  desks,  dashed  the  fragments  about  the  room,  threw 
the  bible  from  the  window,  dragged  forth  the  paraphernalia  of  the 
Order,  and  scattered  it  wildly  about  the  street. 

The  astonished  citizens  stood  aghast  in  mute  horror  as  this  fear- 
ful work  of  destruction  progressed,  not  daring  to  offer  even  a  word 
of  protest  against  the  brutal  outrage.  Private  property  shared 
the  same  fate,  and  those  who  were  known  to  the  desperadoes  as 
Southern  men  and  women,  bad  to  behold  in  silent  despair  their 
houses  sacked,  their  valuables  destroyed  before  their  eyes,  or  taken 
off  by  the  despoilers. 

The  work  of  lawless  plunder  ended,  the  unholy  rioters  set  out  to 
return  to  Nashville,  carrying  with  them  forty  of  the  best  citizens 
of  the  place. 

They  proceeded  on  foot  as  far  as  Sandersville,  at  which  place 
Colonel  Morgan's  men  had  burnt  the  railroad  bridge,  only  a  few 
days  before. 

They  had  not  advanced  many  miles  on  their  way  before  Colonel 
Morgan,  with  twelve  hundred  men,  appreared  in  the  streets  of 
Gallatin.  His  arrival  was  greeted  with  the  joyous  tears  of  the 
grateful  citizens,  who  hailed  him  as  the  deliverer  of  their  husbands, 
sons  and  brothers. 

He  needed  not  to  be  importuned  to  pursue  the  dastardly  foe. — 


188  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

Gaining  a  few  points  of  information,  he  dashed  out  after  him.  He 
had  not  gone  far  before  he  overtook  the  retreating  column,  who, 
instead  of  giving  battle,  fled  precipitately  in  the  direction  of  Nash- 
ville. 

The  Confederates  pursued  the  fleeing  Indianians,  killing  about 
sixty  and  taking  a  large  number  prisoners. 

On  they  dashed,  as  if  for  dear  life,  the  victorious  troops  driving 
them  everywhere  before  them  with  dreadful  carnage.  At  last,  the 
remnant  of  the  fugitives',  breathless  with  affright,  threw  themselves 
behind  a  triangular  stockade  at  the  junction  of  the  railroads,  and 
here  made  a  stand.  The  Confederates  made  a  charge  upon  the 
ranks,  but  it  was  a  strong  position,  and  the  few  Yankees  sheltered 
behind  the  walls  would  not  repay  for  the  trouble,  so  the  Colonel 
withdrew  and  retraced  his  way  to  Gallatin,  bearing  with  him  the 
released  citizens,  who  had  been'rescued  from  a  doom  worse  than 
death. 

The  women  rushed  into  the  streets,  wild  with  joy,  as  they  saw 
the  conquerors  advance,  bringing  with  them  their  husbands  and 
sons.  They  clasped  their  benefactors  in  their  arms,  thanked  them 
with  streaming  faces,  and  invoked  the  blessing  of  heaven  on  them 
in  all  their  undertakings.  Never  was  there  a  more  affecting  scene, 
and  never  before  had  Col.  Morgan  and  his  men  felt  so  grateful  for 
triumph  over  the  foe. . 

Officers  and' men  were  alike  welcomed  in  every  house,  where 
repasts  were  prepared  for  them  with  a  lavishness  that  fully  be- 
spoke the  gratitude  of  the  generous  hearts.  The  young  ladies 
played  aud  sang  for  the  gallant  heroes  who  had  restored  to  them 
their  fathers  and  brothers.  A  late  hour  in  the  night  found  the 
festivity  and  joy  unabated. 

Early  the  next  morning,  Col.  Morgan  was  informed  that  a  large 
Federal  cavalry  force,  led  by  R.  R.  Johnston,  formerly  a  lawyer 
of  Paducah,  Ky.,  who  had  been  sent  out  for  the  express  object  of 
capturing  him  and  his  command,  was  rapidly  marching  on  Gallatin. 

With  his  wonted  quickness,  Col.  Morgan  rallied  his  forces,  and 
set  out  on  the  Hartsville  road  to  encounter  his  sanguine  pursuers. 

With  him  Were  Major  Duke,  Colonel  St.  Grenfel,  Major  Gano, 
Captains  Desha,  McCann,  Hamilton,  Castlemari,  Harrison,  etc., 
all  of  ^tbem  tried  men,  whose  courage  and  daring  were  everywhere 
known  and  acknowledged.  The  force  of  the  enemy  was  reported 
as  very  heavy,  well  armed  and  equipped. 

Nothing  daunted  by  those  rumors  of  superiority,  the  brave 
Southrons  shouldered  their  guns  and  mounting  their  steeds,  rushed 
out  to  the  conflict. 

They  had  proceeded  but  a  mile  when  the  cry  ran  through  the 
ranks,  "  The  Yankees  !  the  Yankees  !" 

Instantly  orders  were  given  to  halt  and  prepare  for  an  engage 
ment.  Colonel  Morgan  formed  his  men  as  rapidly  and  as  well  as 
he  could,  and  opened  upon  the  advancing  foe  a  heavy  volley  of 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  1 89 

musketry;    The  attack  was  furious;  "the  Yankees  replied  in    a 
manner  which  told  their  determination  to  conquer. 

Again  and  again,  in  rapid  succession,  were  the  Federal  ranks  as 
sailed  by  a  stunning  shower  of  Minnie  balls  and  bullets,  while  the 
men  advanced  nearer  and  nearer  toward  the  serried  ranks  of  the 
enemy.  The  sharp,  quick  fire  of  the  guns,  mingling  with  the  low 
bass  of  the  trampling  horsemen,  filled  the  air  with  strange,  wild 
sounds. 

"They  are  determined  to  give  us  close  quarters,"  observed  Col. 
Morgan  to  Ma^or  Duke  at  his  side.  "See!  they  are  advancing 
rapidly  upon  us!" 

"  But,  see,  Colonel,"  said  Duke,  "  they  bring  a  flag  of  truce  ; 
they  will  surrender.  Cowards  !"  added  Duke,  scowling,  "  thus  to 
yield  without  a  fight," 

"  They  surely  will  not  do  that,"  rejoined  Morgan,  keeping  his 
eye  steadily  fixed  upon  the  approaching  squad,  who  bore  down 
upon  them  at  a  pretty  lively  pace.  "  They  would  brand  them- 
selves with  infamy  forever  to  pursue  such  a  course." 

The  firing  ceased  as  soon  as  the  flag  had  been  ohserved,  and  the 
column,  all  ready  for  a  renewal  of  the  engagement,  stood  awaiting 
the  issue  of  the  parley. 

Colonel  Morgan  received  the  deputation  with  his  usual  dignity 
and  grace. 

The  note  was  presented,  bearing  the  signature  of  the  Federal 
Colonel.  It  was  a  request  for  an  armistice  of  several  hours.  John- 
ston stated  that  he  was  surprised — hadn't  his  men  together,  and 
was  not  prepared  for  battle. 

Colonel  Morgan  read  the  missive. 

"Tell  your  Colonel,"  said  he  to  the  Yankee  Adjutant,  "that 
he  has  been  pursuing  me  from  point  to  point,  eager  for  a  fight,  I 
am  now  ready,  and  he  can  have  it,  If  he  can  defeat  me,  very 
well  " 

The  officer  dashed  back  to  his  Colonel  with  the  pithy  reply,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  hostilities  were  resumed. 

The  Confederates,  like  men  in  earnest,  pressed  upon  the  foe, 
sending  at  every  step  a  hail-storm  of  bullets  into  his  irresolute 
ranks.  The  Federals  made  but  a  feeble  reply.  Onward  drove  the 
inspirited  men — onward,  onward,  to  glorious  victory. 

Again  appeared  tire  truce  flag.  Johnston  had  surrendered! 
Loud  and  long  rose  the  shout  from  the  joyous  hosts  of  the  victors. 
The  air  was  rent  with  their  wild  acclamations. 

The  Federals  were  surrounded  and  compelled  to  lay  down  their 
arms.  Colonel  Johnston,  with  six  hundred  of  his  men,  were  made 
prisoners.  The  remainder  fled  to  the  Cumberland.  Believing 
themselves  pursued,  they  had  cast  aside  everything  that  might  re- 
tard their  flight,  and,  actuated  by  that  strongest  law  of  our  nature, 
41  self-preservation,"  had  betaken  themselves  to  the  river  by  the 
shortest  available  route,  thinking  if  they  could   but   place  that 


190  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

stream  between  them  and  the  pursuing  hosts,  they  had  nothing  to 
fear.  On  reaching  the  bank  of  the  Cumberland,  many  deserted 
their  horses  and  dashed  into  the  stream  to  swim  to  the  opposite 
shore.  They  were  bootless,  hatless,  gunless,  horseless — a  parcel 
of  poor  affrighted  men,  running  away  as  best  they  could  from  the 
"  dreaded  Morgan  and  his  dare-devil  crew." 

Finding  themselves  on  the  south  bank  of  the  .stream,  with  their 
horses  on  the  wrong  side,  unable  to  walk  to  Nashville,  they  fell  to 
work  to  press  into  service  every  horse,  mule  and  vehicle*  they  could 
find.  And  it  was  a  rich,  rare  spectacle  to  see  the  motley  cavalcade, 
under  whip  and  spur,  bound  in  hot  haste  for  that  city  of  safety. 

"  What's  the  matter,  friends  1"  asked  a  traveler,  as  he  encoun- 
tered the  heterogenoous  party  just  outside  of  Lebanon,  driving  on 
as  fast  as  circumstances  would  allow  towards  Nashville. 

"  Done  for — done  for,"  was  the  response  of  a  little  red-haired 
man,  who  sat  astride  a  mule,  on  which  there  was  not  even  so  muck, 
as  a  blanket.  "  Morgan  has  cut  us  all  to  pieces,  taken  our  Colonel 
and  all  his  men,  and  we  only  are  left  to  tell  the  tale." 

'■  Too  bad,  my  friend  !  Has  Morgan  whipped  us  again  ?  But 
where  did  this  occur  ?"  interrogated  the  delighted  Southerner, 
preserving  a  grave  mien  and  solemn  tone. 

"At  Gallatin !"  responded  half  a  dozen  voices,  as  if  eager  to 
proclaim  their  defeat. 

"  Who  commanded  you,  and  how  many  strong  ?" 

''  We  were  under  Colonel  Johnston,  and  numbered  eleven  hun- 
dred." 

"  And  did  that  desperado  Morgan  whip  you  with  his  handful  of 
ragamuffins  ?" 

"  Oh,  he  had  thousands  !  the  earth  was  perfectly  covered  with 
his  men.  He  did  whip  us,  and  I  believe  he  can  do  it  again.  These 
secesh  seem  to  have  the  devil  in  them.  They  fight  like  the  old 
scratch  himself!" 

"Bad — bad!"  exclaimed  the  traveler.  "Something  must  be 
done  to  put  this  fellow  Morgan  out  of  the  way." 

"  Can't  catch  him — he's  here,  and  there,  and  everywhere.  We 
were  after  him  for  days,  and  then  met  him  where  we  didn't  expect 
to  find  him.     You  can't  head  him  j  it's  no  use  trying." 

The  traveler  bowed  and  rode  on.  As  he  passed  along  the  col- 
umn, he  asked  several  more  the  same  question.  All  gave  a  like 
response,  "  Morgan  had  used  them  up." 

Colonel  Morgan  again  returned  in  triumph  to  Gallatin,  bearing 
with  him  his  long  line  of  prisoners.  The  remainder  of  the  day  was 
occupied  in  giving  them  paroles.  The  next  day  Morgan  and  his 
men,  followed  by  the  blessings  and  prayers  of  the  whole  population 
of  the  little  town,  left  Gallatin  for  earnest  work  elsewhere. 

Not  many  days  elapsed  before  the  Yankees  were  again  the  mas- 
ters of  the  place,  exceeding,  if  possible,  their  former  cruelty  and 
coarseness. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  1  91 

Thus,  in  the  short  space  of  a  few  weeks,  this  little  town,  with 
its  population  of  true  Southern  hearts,  was  thrice  in  the  possession 
of  the  diabolical  foe — twice  relieved  by  the  most  opportune  presence 
of  Colonel  Morgan  and  his  men.  :  Such  are  the  chances  of  war. 


CHAPTER   XLII. 

NEWS    FROM    HOME. 


After  the  brilliant  victory  at  Gallatin,  the  Confederates  retired 
to  their  headquarters  near  llartsville,  to  await  another  favorable  op- 
portunity to  pounce  upon  the  Yankees.  The  defeat,  of  Johnston 
had  served  to  greatly  heighten  their  fear  of  the  invincible  and  ubi- 
quitous Morgan,  teaching  them  an  increased  degree  of  caution, 
which  they  evidenced  by  prudently  keeping  close  to  their  base  of 
operations.  Now  and  then  an  ill-omened  squad,  venturing  out  too 
far,  was  caught  up  by  the  vigilant  Southrons,  and  placed  beyond 
the  pale  of  further  mischief. 

It  was  a  time  of  activity  with  the  Confederate  army  in  Tennes- 
see. Bragg  was  busily  engaged  in  preparations  to  move  into  Ken-: 
tucky.  Buell,  understanding  his  designs,  and  desiring  to  thwart 
them,  was  slowly  falling  back  from  Deckherd.  Gen.  Kirby  Smith 
was  advancing  into  Kentucky  through  Pound  Gap,  with  an  army 
destined  to  occupy  the  central  portion  of  the  State,  and  there  act 
in  conjunction  with  Gen.  Bragg,  whose  proposed  route  was  through 
■  lasgow,  Mumfordsville  and  Bardstown. 

Colonel  Morgan,  with  a  portion  of  his  force,  dashed  once  more 
into  Glasgow,  arrested  the  provost  marshal  of  the  place,  and  issued 
a  proclamation,  in  which  he  told  Union  men  of  the  punishment 
with  which  they  were  to  be  visited  for  their  cruel  treatment  to  his 
friends. 

Then  returning  into  Tennessee,  he  consummated  his  arrange- 
ments to  accompany  Bragg  on  his  proposed  expedition. 

"  We  are  going  into  Kentucky  again,  boys,"  said  Lawrence,  as 
the  mess  sat  around  Ihe  table  one  morning,  soon  after  the  return 
from  Glasgow,'  "  and  we  go  this  time  to  stay." 

"  Three  cheers,  for  old  Kentucky  !"  huzzaed  a  half  dozen  voices. 
"  Three  cheers  for  the  noble  old  State — may  we  win  her  from 
Yankee  rule !" 


192  EAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

"  Come,  Charley,  what  are  you  doing  there,  moping  in  that  cor- 
ner ?"  said  young  Brent  to  our  hero,  as  he  lay  stretched  out  on  his 
straw  pallet,  on  one  side  of  the  tent.  "  Come,  don't  you  see  break- 
fast is  ready?  and  didn't  you  hear  that  glorious  .news?  We  are 
going  back  to  old  Kentucky  to  s.tay.  Why,  Charley,  I  should 
think  you  would  jump  over  the  table  at  that  glorious  announce- 
ment." 

"  I  am  delighted,  Brent,  at  the  news,  but  my  head  aches  so 
miserably,  I  don't  believe  I  could  sit  up.  John,  are  you  sure 
this  is  true  ?     Where  did  you  get  your  information  ?" 

"From  headquarters,  Charley.  It's  as  true  as  the  Bible,  and 
no  mistake.  Major  Duke  told  Cal.  Morgan,  and  I  had  it  from  Cal. 
himself,  just  a  few  minutes  ago.  Come,  Charley,  get  up,  boy,  and 
drink  this  cup  of  coffee.  It's  some  of  my  own  make,  and  it  is 
most  excellent — isn't  boys  ?" 

"First-rate!  first-rate,  John  !"  answered  all  present.  "Good 
enough  to  make  any  sick  man  well." 

"  Here,  Charley,  drink  this,"  said  Brent,  as  he  moved  from  the 
table  to  the  side  of  the  straw  pallet  with  a  tin  cup  of  smoking 
coffee  in  his  hand.  "  Drink  it,  and  if  it  doesn't  cure  your  head  in 
ten  minutes,  I  am  no  doctor." 

Charley  raised  himself  up  on  his  elbow,  and  taking  the  cup 
from  the  soldiers  hand,  sipped  a  few  drops,  and  handed  it  back 
to  his  friend. 

"  Pshaw,  Charley,  you  haven't  taken  any.  You  must  drink  it 
all.  Two  sips  won't  cure  you.  I  do  believe,  boys,"  said  Brent, 
turning  to  the  mess,  "  that  Charley  has  the  heart-ache !  Have 
you*  been  hearing  any  bad  news  from  Kentucky  lately  ?  Come, 
•make  a  good  confession.  Here,  let  me  feel  your  pulse.  Pshaw! 
just  as  slow  and  steady  as  an  old  clock.  Not  a  bit  of  fever.  Now 
put  out  your  tongue,  Charley.  I  must  examine  you  thoroughly, 
and  find  out  your  symptoms,  before  I  can  prescribe." 

Charley,  smiling,  obeyed  the  bidding,  and  turning  his  face  full 
to  the  light,  thrust  out  his  tongue  for  Brent's  inspection. 

"Why,  your  tongue  is  a  little  coated,  old  fellow — but  not  much. 
A  good  cup  of  coffee,  and  you  will  be  well  by  dinner.  No  time 
to  get  sick  now.  We  may  be  off  to  Kentucky  in  less  than  .twelve 
hours.     When  did  you  say  we  were  to  set  out,  John  ?" 

"  In  a  fetv  days — less  than  a  week — I  understand.  But  it  may 
be  to-morrow.  You  know  Colonel  Morgan  gives  us  but  short 
notice."  .    . 

"  Here,  Charley,  you  must,  indeed,  take  this  coffee, — nothing 
like  it  for  headache  and  heart-ache ;  indeed,  it  will  cure  all  kinds 
of  aches.  Drink  it  down,  and  think  of  the  Kentucky  girls,  and, 
my  word  for  it,  you  will  be  well  in  two  hours." 

"No  doubt  of  it,  Charley,"  said  John". 

"  But,  here,"  said  Brent,  "let  me  pour  you  another  cup.  That's 
cold." 


S 


OP  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  193 

11  Don't  put  any  sugar  in  it,  John  ;  I  am  sick  at  my  stomach, 
and  can't  bear  anything  sweet." 

The  fresh  coffee  was  handed,  and  Charley  drank  it  down,  wear- 
ing all  the  while-a  martyr  look. 

"  Now,  be  still  a  little  while,"  said  young  Brent,  feeling  his 
pulse  a  second  time  with  mock  gravity,  "  and  by  dinner  you  may 
be  up  and  preparing  for  your  trip  to  Louisville." 

Breakfast  being  over,  young  Brent  took  it  upon  himself  to  clear 
away  the  table  and  arrange  things  generally.  He  could  do  this, 
he  said,  and  at  the  same  time  attend  to  his  patient.  The  other 
boys  went  out  to  learn  the  news  of  the  day. 

They  had  not  been  gone  more  than  half  an  hour  before  John 
rushed  back  to  the  tent,  his  countenance  bright  with  joy,  exclaim- 
ing :  "  News  from  home,  Charley — a  letter,  a  letter  !  Come,  my 
boy,  this  will  make  you  well,  and  no  mistake." 

Young  Brent,  who  sat  beside  the  open  tent,  motioned  to  him 
to  be  silent. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Brent  ?"  inquired  John,  anxiously,  as  he 
reached  his  side  and  saw  his  grave  expression  of  countenance. 

"  Be  still — Charley  is  asleep,  and  is  really  quite  sick." 

"Oh,  I  hope  not,  Brent — nothing  more  than  a  nervous  head- 
ache, I  judge.  You  know  he  has  done  a  great  deal  of  hard  work 
recently.  No  one  fought  more  bravely  at  Gallatin  than  did  he, 
and  he  has  been  kept  quite  busy  ever  since  we  came  into  camp." 

"  It  may  pass  off  without  serious  consequences,  but  I  feel  anx- 
ious, lie  has  a  very  high  fever.  Here,  look  how  red  his  face  is, 
and  he  complains  of  severe  pain  in  his  side." 

John  approached  the  bedside,  and  stooped  down  to  look  at  his 
friend. 
•  The  sleeper's  lips  moved — "water,  water!*'  he  muttered. 

"  What  will  you  have,  Charley  V  asked  John,  bending  tenderly 
over  him,  and  speaking  as  softly  as  a  woman. 

The  sound  of  his  voice  aroused  the  sleeper,  who,  starting,  open- 
ed his  eyes  and  looked  wildly  up. 

"  What  did  you  say,  Charley  ?"  repeated  John.  "  Is  there 
anything  you  want  ?" 

"  I  didn't  say  anything,  did  1 1  I  must  have  been  dreaming. 
But  I  am  intolerable  thirsty.  Can  I  have  some  water,  Doctor 
Brent  ?"  he  said,  casting  a  mischievous  glance  into"  that  person- 
age's face. 

Young  Brent  hastened  to  procure  him  a  cup  of  fresh  water. 
.  "Charley,  what  for  a  letter  from  old  Kentucky  V  asked  John, 
quizzically. 

"Oh,  have  you  a  letter,  John  ?"  And  Charley  sprang  up  in 
bed,  and  gazed  beseechiugly  on  his  friend.  "  Is  it  from  Louis- 
ville ?  But  you  haven't  got  one,  John,"  he  added,  despondingly. 
"  Why  did  you  tantalize  me  so  1"  and  he  fell  back  upon  his  pallet 

13 


194  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

with  a  sigh.  "Oh,  my  head!", he  exclaimed,  a  moment  after, 
pressing  his  hands  on  his  temples.     "  It  aches  to  bursting." 

"  I  am  sorry  I  excited  you  so,  Charley  ;  but  here  is  a  letter  fo  r 
you,  and  it  is  from  Louisville,  too." 

Charley  stretched  forth  his  hand  eagerly,  and  grasped  the  ex- 
tended missive. 

"  From  Lu — my  dear,  dear  sister.  But  how  did  you  get  it, 
John  ?" 

"  A  man  came  through  direct  from  Louisville — young  Mayner. 
He  brought  a  large  lot  of  letters  for  our  men." 

"Did  you  get  one  from  home,  John  ]"  inquired  Charley,  most 
earnestly. 

"  Yes ;  from  Mary — a  sweet,  loving  letter  as  ever  a  brother  re- 
ceived. You  -shall  read  it,  Charley,  when  you  get  through  with 
yours.  You  will  see  Mary  has  not  forgotten  you.  She  mentions 
your  riarne  in  every  line.  And  she  says>  too,  as  you  will  see,  that 
she  has  written  you  a  long  letter,  to  be  sent  out  with  this.  Per- 
haps it  has  not  yet  been  distributed." 

"  Where  is  Mayner  now,  John  ?  Do  tell  him  to  come  here  im- 
mediately, if  you  please." 

"  He  is  somewhere  in  camp.  I  will  go  directly  and  bring  him 
here.    But  let's  read  our  ietters  first." 

"  Here  is  a  good,  cool  drink  of  water,  Charley ;  I  ran  all  the 
way  from  the  spring,"  arrd  Brent  put  the  cup  to  his  fevered  lips. 
He  swallowed  the  draught  eagerly. 

"I  must  bathe  your  head,  Charley." 

"  Ob,  wait,  Brent,  until  I  read  my  letter  from  home,"  and  Char- 
ley hastily  tore  off  the  envelope.  As  be  opened  the  letter,  a  neatly 
folded  sheet  of  note  paper,  closely  written,  fell  out.  He  took  it 
up  and  examined  the  signature.  As  his  eyes  rested  upon  it,  his 
face  flushed  crimson. 

"  Ah,  Charley  will  have  no  further  need  of  my  services  no  w, 
John.  That  billet-doux  will  prove  a  sovereign  panacea.  He  ad- 
ache  and  heart-ache  will  now  be  cured.  I'll  leave  you  to  your 
happiness,  my  most  happy  patient,  and  go  and  see  if  I  can't  hear 
of  a  letter  for  myself.     Surely  some  friend  has  remembered  me." 

Brent  stepped  outside  the  tent,  leaving  Charley  to  peruse  his 
sheet  uninterrupted  by  his  presence. 

John  sat  down  beside  the  straw  pallet,  and  the  two  read  and 
re-read  their  letters,  and  talked  of  the  dear  friends  at  home,  whom 
they  hoped  so  soon  to  see,  until  Charley  forgot  his  headache  in 
the  joy  of  glad  thoughts  and  bright  anticipations. 

"  How  pleasant  it  would  be,  John,  if  we  could  but  get  to  Louis- 
ville in  time  for  Lu's  marriage.  It  is  strange  Spalding  told  me 
nothing  of  this,  when  we  met  at  Lebanon  ;  but  then  I  left  so  ab- 
ruptly, and  doubtless  he  had  deferred  it  till  morning.  And  Mary, 
too,  she  ought  to  have  known  of  it." 

"  She  told  me,  Charley,  that  for  some  weeks  previous  to  your 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  195 

sister's  visit  to  Cincinnati — you  know  Miss  Lu  was  there  while 
we  were  in  Kentucky — they  had  met  only  on  the  street ;  Lu,  for 
some  reason,  had  avoided  her.  May  not  this  account  for  her  want 
of  information  1" 

With  sparkling  eyes  and  throhbing  brain,  Charley  read  over 
and  over  the  letrers.  Great  big  tears  gathered  in  his  eyes  and 
rolled  down  his  burning  cheeks,  as  he  dwelt  on  the  sweet  words 
of  love  from  her  who  was  bis  heart's  idol. 

"  All  well,  Charley  V  asked  Brent,  re-entering,  after  an  absence 
of  several  minutes. 

"  Very  well,"  was  the  reply,  while  a  happy  smile  lighted  up  the 
fevered  face  of  the  speaker. 

"  Yes,  that's  it.  How  sad  for  us  all  that  that  miserably  false 
report  should  obtain  currency.  You  know  to  what  1  allude,  John? 
It  caused  me  such  anguish  as  I  could  not  describe,  and  produced 
that  temporary  estrangement  between  Mary  and  Lu — these  two 
have  as  been  sisters  from  their  childhood." 

"  Bad,  bad — too  bad.  But  it's  all  passed  now,  Charley,  my 
boy,  and  we  won't  torment  ourselves  over  it  longer.  You  see,  the 
two  girls  are  reconciled,  and  I  should  think  «that  you  and  Mary 
were  friends  again.  And  who  knows,  Charley,  but  we  may  yet  be 
able  to  accept  MissLu's  invitation  ?  Do  you  not  know,  my  boy, 
that  we  are  all  going  into  Kentucky  soon  1  I  heard  it  just  before 
I  came  to  you,  but,  in  our  joy  over  the  letters,  forgot  to  mention 
it.  Yes,  indeed,  it's  so.  We  go  to  stay  this  time,  and,  if  I  mis- 
take not,  I  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  attending  more  than  one 
wedding,"  and  John  looked  so  significantly  at  his  friend,  that 
Charley,  in  spite  of  himself,  blushed  red,  and  betrayed  deep  em- 
barrassment. 

"  Going  into  Kentucky  !  when,  John  V  and  with  the  excitement 
of  the  thought  he  sprang  from  his  straw  pallet,  on  which  he  had 
been  sitting  during  the  conversation,  and  placed  himself  cui  a 
saddle  that  stood  near  by.  "  Can  it  be  possible,  John,  that  this  is 
true  ?  Oh,  what  joy  !  But,  then,"  and,  sighing,  he  leaned  his 
aching  head  on  his  hand,  "I  may  not  be  well  enough  to  go." 

"Oh,  yes,  you  will,  Charley.  Why  are  you  so  despondent? 
All  you  need  is  a  little  rest.  You  have  been  over-taxed  of  late  ; 
indeed,  I  don't  think  you  have  gotten  over  your  trip  to  Kentucky. 
Come,  now,  you  must  lie  down  and  be  still ;  keep  quiet,  and  you 
will  soon  be  better.  I'll  go  and  see  if  1  can  learn  anything  re- 
specting our  movement." 

Charley  fhrew  himself  on  his  low  bed,  in  accordance  with  his 
friend's  desire.  But  he  could  not  rest.  He  endeavored  to  call  in 
his  thoughts  and  compose  himself  to  sleeep  ;  but  the  endeavor  was 
a  futile  one — his  miud  would  go  out  to  live  in  fhe  future. 


196  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 


DISAPPOINTMENT. 


"  When  do  we  'set  out  for  Kentucky,  Irving  V*  asked  young 
Gray,  a  member  of  Charley's  mess,  as  with  a  group  of  boys  he 
stood  under  the  wide-spread  branches  of  a  sycamore  tree,  eagerly 
listening  to  Irving's  recital  of  the  joy  and  glory  that  awaited  the 
command  when,  as  victors,  they  should  repossess  the  soil  wrenched 
from  them  by  the  oppressive  foe. 

"  Very  soon,  I  understand.  Preparations  are  now  being  made 
for  the  trip.  Hawkins,  here,  thinks  it  will  not  be  more  than  a 
week." 

"  And  it  may  be  earlier  than  that,  Irving.  Major  Duke  told  me 
this  morning  that  we  must  hold  ourselves  in  readiness  to  leave  at 
any  moment  after  to-day.  I  should  not  be  the  least  astonished  if 
we  received  orders  in  less  than  an  hour  to  set  out  to-morrow  morn- 
ing." 

"What  is  that,  Hawkins?"  asked  Lawrence,  as  he  stepped  up 
to  the  side  of  the  speaker.  "  Is  it  certain  we  are  going  into  Ken- 
tucky ?" 

"  No  doub't  of  it,  sir.    We  are  to  accompany  Bragg's  army  ; 
that  is,  we  are  to  move  simultaneously  with  them." 
'  "  And  when  will  this  be  1" 

"  We  will  leave  this  point  very  soon ;  perhaps  in  less  than- 
twenty-four  hours.  There  may  be  some  work  for  us  to  do  before 
we  are  ready  for  invasion." 

The  old  woods  rang  with  loud  acclaim,  when  the  boys  became 
assured  that  the  rumor  which  had  filled  them  with  such  anxious 
expectations  was  really  true. 

To  Kentucky  hearts,  Kentucky  is  still  dear.  Her  sons  feel 
deeply  the  blighting  disgrace  under  which  she  now  rests,  but  they 
love  her  still ;  and  with  pity  for  what  she  is,  and  hope  for  what 
she  yet  may  be,  they  stand  ready  to  struggle,  to  fight,  to  pour  out 
their  best  blood,  to  vindicate  her  right  and  break  the  base,  ignoble 
shackles  that  now  bind  her  to  the  most  disgraced  ignominious  des- 
potism the  world  has  known  for  ages. 

Noon  came.  Charley  was  no  better.  His  fever  had  increased, 
and  with  it  the  pain  in  the  head.  The  physician  was  sent  for,  but 
he  had  rode  off  to  a  neighboring  farm-house,  where  one  of  the  men 
lay  ill  with  fever.  Just  at  night,  Dr.  Lapsley  returned  to  camp. 
He  was  immediately  called  in  to  see  Charley. 

After  thoroughly  examining  his  symptoms,  he  prescribed  medi- 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  .         197 

cine  to  be  taken  at  intervals  of  four  hours  through  the  entire 
night. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  my  case,  Doctor  ?'•'  inquired  Charley  of 
him,  most  anxiously,  as  the  physician  sat  holding  his  pulse.  "  I 
will  be  well  enough  to  go  to  Kentucky,  won't  I  ?" 

"  Oh.  I  hope  so,  sir,"  responded  the  Doctor,  most  encouraging- 
ly. "  Your  fever  is  pretty  high  at  present.  But  I  think  a  night's 
rest  and  the  medicine  I  have  left  will  greatly  restore  you.  Who 
will  take  it  upon  himself  to  administer  these  powders,  gentlemen  1 
They  must  be  given  regularly." 

*'  I,"  said  John,  promptly  ;  "just  leave  them  with  me,  sir." 

"  You  understand  directions  V 

John  bowed  assent. 

Next  morning  found  our  young  friend  much  better.  He  had 
slept  well  through  the  night,  and  the  medicine  had  produced  a 
most  happy  effect.  His  head  was  measurably  relieved,  the  pain 
from  his  side  gone,  and  his  fever  quite  abated. 

He  spoke  most  hopefully  of  Kentucky,  and,  with  the  others  of 
his  mess,  longed  for  the  moment  of  departure  to  come. 

The  Doctor  called  early,  pronounced  him  better,  but  advised 
quiet  through  the  day. 

At  noon,  it  was  announced  that  the  whole  command  must  hold 
itself  ready  to  leave  the  day  after  the  morrow. 

Charley  joyously  set  about  preparations  for  the  trip.  When 
evening  came,  he  was  weary  and  exhausted,  and  his  fever  quite 
burning.  But  he  was  determined  to  brave  it  out,  and  did  not  men- 
tion it  to  any  one.  He  spent  a  restless,  wakeful  night,  and  the  next 
morning  found  him  unable  to  rise  from  his  bed. 

Dr.  Lapsley  was  again  called  in.  He  examined  him  and  pro- 
nounced him  worse. 

"Oh,  can't  I  go,  Doctor?"  asked  Charley,  in  a  most  pleading 
voice. 

The  Doctor  hesitated  to  answer.  "  I  must  be  candid  with  you, 
Charley,"  he  said,  after  some  delay.  "I  think  it  will  be  impossi- 
ble.   I  fear  you  may  have  a  serious  attack  of  fever." 

Charley  turned  himself  on  his  low  bed,  and  burst  into  tears. 
Brave,  daring  soldier  as  he  was,  he  could  not  refrain  from  this  ex- 
pression of  his  sore  disappointment.  The  physician  left  directions 
and  hastened  away. 

"  Brent,"  and  Charley  turned  his  face  imploringly  up  to  that  of 
his  faithful  friend  beside  him,  "  Ihave  a  favor  to  ask  of  you.  Will 
you  write  me  a  letter  to-day,  and  take  it  with  you  to  Kentucky  1 
I  feel  I  shall  not  go.  I  trust  you  as  a  friend.  I  know  you  will 
not  betray  me." 

"  Yes,  Charley,  I  will  do  any  thing  I  can  for  you." 

"  Here,  sit  down  beside  me,  and  I  will  tell  you  all." 

The  young  soldier  did  as  he  was  requested,  and  Charley  told  him 
the  story  of  his  love. 


198  KAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

"  I  confide  my  secret  to  you,  Brent,  as  I  would  to  a  brother.  I 
know  you  will  not  deceive  me.  Now  get  the  paper,  and  let  me 
tell  you  what  to  write." 

Brent  wiped  the  tears  from  his  face,  and  obeying  Charley's  di- 
rections, got  paper,  pen  and  ink, 

The  letter  full  of  love  and  devotion  was  penned. 

"  Tell  my  friends,  Brent,  that  if  I  live  I  will  follow  the  army 
into  Kentucky  as  soon  as  I  an)  able." 

Dr.  Lapsley  looked  in  about. noon,  to  order  Charley  to  be  moved 
to  a  neighboring  house.  He  had  been  out  and  secured  a  place  for 
him. 

The  ambulance  was  provided  and  stood  ready  to  carry  him  to 
his  new  home.  One  by  one  his  friends  called  to  bid  him  good-bye. 
It  was  an  affecting  scene  to  see  those  brave  men,  so  little  given  to 
weeping,  wipe  away  the  tears  from  their  sun-burned  faces,  as  one 
after  another  took  leave  of  their  sick  comrade. 

"  I  will  stay  with  you,  Charley,"  said  John.  "  I  feel  it  my  duty. 
I  cannot  leave  you  in  this  condition." 

■  "  Oh  !  no,  John,  I  cannot  ask  it  of  you.  The  doctor  informs 
me  that  the  people  where  I  am  going  have  promised  to  nurse  me, 
and  he  himself  will  board  in  the  same  family.  No,  no,  go  on,  and 
may  you,  he  permitted  to  reach  Louisyille  and  see  again  all  our 
dear  friends  there." 

John  and  Brent  accompanied  Charley,  and  saw  him  most  com-' 
fortably  situated  at  farmer  Johnson's. 

"  Tell  my  friends  all  you'know  I  would  say,  boys ;  I  am  too  weak 
to  talk  now,"  said  Charley  to  them,  as  they  stood  over  him  to  bid 
him  farewell. 

The  boys  shook  his  [hands  affectionately,  wishing  him  a  speedy 
recovery  ;  and  dashing  away  their  tears  they  hastened  off  to  camp. 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

THE    MARRIAGE. 


i 


The  evening  came  gloriously  down  over  the  earth,  The  day 
had  been  one  of  those  soft,  mellow  days  of  early  autumn,  when 
the  Spirit  of  Beauty,  descending  from  her  empyrean  abode,  walks 
the  earth  in  silent  majesty,  scattering  from  her  celestial  train  en- 
chanting loveliness  to  gladden  the  soul,  permeating  it  with  heav- 


OP  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  199 

enly  inspirations  and  linking  it  in  hope  to  the  upper  world,  whose 
air  is  beauty  and  whose  soul  is  infinite  love.  There  is  an  intel- 
lectuality in  the  autumn  wh'ch  belongs  to  no  other  season  of  the 
year — #,  voice  which  speah^  to  mMi  of  the  higher  destiny  that 
awaits  him  where,  unclothed'  of  the  materiality  that  now  fetters 
his  thoughts  and  blinds  his  vision,  he  shall  rise  to  the  immortality 
of  the  just,  and  drink  of  the  living  fountain  of  knowledge  and  good- 
ness that  flows  from  the  throne  of  the  Infinite. 

Dressed  for  the  altar,  the  young  girl  stood  amid  her  brides- 
maids the  very  personification  of  beauty.  The  natural  grace  and 
elegance  of  her  form  were  charmingly  manifested  by  the  dress  of 
rich  white  silk,  with  its  point  lace  flounces.  A  berthe  of  the  same 
material  fell  from  her  tapering  shoulders  over  the  full  bust.  No 
ornament,  save  the  simple  wreath  of  orange  bloom  which  bound 
the  bridal  veil,  decorated  her  person. 

On  the  stand  beside  her,  in  its  soft  case  of  white  satin,  lay  a  full 
and  handsome  set  of  pearls — the  gift  of  her  affianced  Mr.  Spald- 
ing. Lu  R.  felt  tempted  to  wear  these  superb  jewels  for  his  sake ; 
"  But  not  night,"  she  said  in  reply  to  Mary  Lawrence's  earnest 
request  to  be  permitted  to  clasp  them  about  her  neck  and  arms. 
"  Not  to-night,  Mary  dear ;  you  know  my  fancy  :  no  jewelry  for  a 
young  bride.  1  feel  he  will  not  disapprove  of  my  taste.  Nor  do 
you,  Mary  ? — come,  tell  me  truly.  Do  you  not.  think  it.  more  be- 
fit ing  to  dispense  with  jewels  on  such  an  occasion." 

"  Yes,  Lu  ;  but  these  are  so  handsome  !" 

"  And  Mr.  Spalding's  gift,"  interposed  Molly  Brent,  another  at- 
tendant. 

"  I  am  sure  they  would  be  so  becoming,  Lu.  You  would  look 
like  one  of  the  princess'  of  Oriental  story — so  majestic,  so  elegant. 
I  could  almost  wish  you  would  wear  them,"  added  Evangeline  Le- 
noir— a  beautiful  girl  of  French  descent,  who  in  early  life,  had 
been  left  an  orphan  in  charge  of  an  uncle,  a  man  of  wealth  and  po- 
sition. "  Just  let  me  try  them  on  you,  Lu.  There,  see  how  beau- 
tiful !  Oh  !  are  they  not  exquisite — perfect  ?  But  I  see  you  would 
rather  not  wear  them  to-night ;  so  I'll  unclasp  them  and  lay  them 
gently  back  in  their  soft  bed." 

"  When  will  you  wear  them,  Lu  ?  I  am  almost  dying  to  see 
them  on  you  !"  exclaimed  Dolly  Quitman,  as  she  gazed  on  the 
beautiful  ornaments.  "Oh,  how  superb  they  are!  I  never  saw 
anything  more  magnificent.  But  I  agree  with  you,  Lu,  in  your 
taste;  I  am  determined  w^en  I  marry  not  to  wear  ornaments, 
even  if  they  are  diamonds  themselves." 

"  Now  the  queen,  and  now  the  gentle  "  girl  bride,"  said  Evange- 
line, as  she  undid  the  clasps  and  placed  the  ornaments  back  in  the 
ecrin  beside  which  lay  two  other  sets — one  of  amethyst  and  pearls, 
the  other  a  chaste  turquoise. 

And  there  she  stood  the  "  girl  bride,"  as  beautiful  as  a  poet's 
dream.    No  ornament  needed  she  to  enhance  her  loveliness.    Her 


200  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

black  hair  parted  over  her  forehead,  swept  back  from  the  full  white 
temples  over  her  delicate  ear,  and  was  gathered  into  a  large  roll 
behind,  confined  by  a.  comb  of  consummate  workmanship,  and  her 
face  was  partly  shaded  by  the.gossamjimveil  that  feel  sweeping  like 
fancy  frost-work  over  the  chiseled  shoulders  and  full  bust  until  it 
reached  the  floor. 

"  And  there  were  roses  on  her  cheeks, 
That  came  and  went  like  living  things.'' 

And  her  lustrous  dark  eyes  beamed  bright  with  the  hope  and 
joy  of  her  swelling  bosom. 

Below  in  the  large,  elegant  parlors,  numerous  guests  were  as- 
sembled, awaiting  in  breathless  expectation  the  appearance  of  the 
bride  and  bridegroom — for  it  is  now  the  hour  of  ten. 

A  moment  more,  and  the  throng  from  the  door  falls  back — a  way 
is  open — and  the  attendants  pass  in  and  form  themselves  on  the 
floor. 

Scarcely  a  moment  for  a  glance  at  these  four  lovely  creatures, 
all  in  virgin  white,  and  their  handsome  escorts,  before  the  manly 
form  of  the  bridegroom,  bearing  on  his  arm  his  gentle*,  blushing 
bride,  enters  and  fixes  the  gaze  of  all  beholders.  The  minister  ap- 
proaches, and  standing  before  them,  in  a  solemn  and  impressive 
ceremony,  unites  for  life  the  destiny  of  these  two  loving  hearts. 

The  prayer  is  ended  and  congratulations  and  kisses  are  showered 
on  the  happy  pair,  whose  present  is  perfect  happiness,  and  whose 
futnre  now  wears  only  the  hue  of  the  rose-tint. 

Ah  !  well  it  is  that  at  such  moments  one  cannot  look  with  un- 
clouded vision  adown  the  way  of  life.  For  there  must  we  behold 
the  grief — the  disappointment— the  anguish— the  parting — the  pall 
— the  bier — the  narrow  house  which  all  must  meet,  and  our  hearts, 
aweary  with  the  contemplation,  would  sit  down  in  silence  and  in 
gloom,  boding  not  the  present  good.  What  wisdom,  then,  that 
the  veil  of  uncertainty  is  thrown  before  our  eyes  to  shut  out  the 
ill  that  soon  must  come ! 

It  was  a  joyous  company.  Ease  and  genuine  hospitality  char- 
acterized every  movement  of  the  kind  host  and  hostess  ;  and  that 
.freedom  from  restraint  and  mutual  interchange  of  thought  and  feel- 
ings, which  always  distinguish  wedding  parties  from  all  others, 
prevailed  among  the  guests'.  There  was  but  one  cloud  that  threw 
its  shadows  over  the  bright  and  gladsome  scene — it  was  the  thought 
of  the  far-away  loved  ones. 

Many  present  had  friends  in  the  j* :  outhern  army.  Soon  they 
must  be  exposed  to  the  shock  of  battle  j  for  it  was  fully  known  that 
Gen.  Bragg  had  taken  up  his  march  into  Kentucky  ;  and  the  hus- 
bands and  brothers,  and  sons  who  accompanied  him,  with  eyes 
fixed  so  strainingly  on  the  old  homes,  and  hearts  bent  so  yearning- 
ly towards  the  loved  ones  there,  might  never  again  sit  by  the 
hearth-stone,  or  hold  sweet  converse  with  the  cherished  friends  of 
yore.    Ah,  no  !  but  it  might  be  that  they  would  fall  in  the  fierce 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  201 

conflict  and  insatiate  death  batten  on  their  prostrate  forms ;  and 
amid  the  merry  laugh  and  joyous  conversation  the  heart  would 
stand  still  at  the  dread  picture  which  the  imagination  called  up. 

The  evening  passed  pleasantly.  The  entertainment  throughout 
was  marked  by  the  finest  taste  and  the  utmost  liberality.  The 
table  combined  elegant  profusion  and  most  exquisite  grace.  The 
wines  were  of  the  finest  flavor,  the  confections  of  the  most  choice 
kinds.  While  the  polite  and  agreeable  manner  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  R., 
.  served  to  heighten  the  pleasure  of  the  whole. 

On  the  following  morning,  attended  by  numerous  friends  from 
the  city,  they  proceeded  to  Lebanon,  where  several  days  were  to 
be  passed  in  festive  enjoyments.  Mary  Lawrence  was  bonneted, 
all  ready  to  take  her  seat  in  the  carnage  which  was  to  convey  th& 
bride  and  groom  to  the  railroad  'depot,  when  a  note  came  summon- 
iug  her  to  her  mother's  bedside. 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

THE    PARTING    OF    THE    FRIENDS. 

It  was  the  early  morning.  The  first  rays  of  the  sun,  struggling 
through  the  thin  clouds  that  lay  lazily  floating  in  the  east,  threw  a 
soft,  uncertain  light  over  the  earth,  which  was  but  just  awakening 
from  its  deep  repose.  And  early  morning  birds,  decking  afresh 
their  soft  plumage,  began  to  warble  their  matinal  pseans  to  Him 
who  feedeth  the  young  sparrows  and  satisfieth  the  desires  of  every 
living  creature.  « 

The  hand  of  autumn  was  just  beginning  to  touch  with  meilow 
dyes  the  rich  foliage  of  the  woodlands.  Already  her  presence  had 
hushed  into  holy  stillness  the  roistering  summer,  and  filled  the  soul 
of  nature  with  calm,  contemplative  thought. 

Beside  the  uncurtained  window,  Charley  lay  on  his  soft,  clean 
bed,  looking  out  into  the  gray  dawn  of  the  morning.  The  long, 
weary  hours  of  the  night  in  which  fitful  sleep  brought  only  ghastly 
droams,  were  passed  at  last,  and  as  he  caught  the  first  faint  beams 
of  the  opening  day,  be  thanked  God  that  the  dreary  night-watches 
were  over.  His  head  ached,  oh,  so  severely,  and  his  heart  sadly, 
ah,  so  sadly  !  Alone — alone!  His  friends  gone — and  he  in  pain 
and  suffering,  amid  strangers,  away,  far",  far  away,  from  home  and 


202         •  -RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

kindred.  No  mother  to  bend  over  him  and  soothe  his  throbbing 
brain  ;  no  father's  voice  to  bid  him  hope  ;  no  sister's  gentle  hand 
to  smooth  his  pillow,  or  administer  the  cooling  febrifugs,  Alone — 
alone !  Great,  scalding  tears  rushed  to  his  eyes,  and  chased  each 
other  down  his  face. 

He  endeavored  to  disengage  his  mind  from  these  sad  contempla- 
tions, and,  turning  on  his  pillow,  he  strained  his;  gaze  through  the 
window  to  find,  if  perchance  be  might,  some  object  to  distract  his 
attention.  He  saw  the  uprising  sun  battling  with  the  slothful 
clouds,  sending  his  golden  glory  through  the  ridgy  rifts,  and  heard 
the  birds  sing  from  amid  the  drooping  boughs  that  came  down 
over  his  open  window,  and  he  thought  but  the  more  of  home — for 
often  in  his  careless  boyhood  had  he  looked  upon  the  same  morn- 
ing scene,  and  listened  to  the  sweet  songs  of  early  birds.  And  the 
tears,  a  moment  before  wiped  away,  now  streamed  thick  and  fast. 

Just  then  the  loud  and  ringing  shouts  of  his  happy  comrades,  as 
they  broke  up  camp  and  set  out  on  their,  homeward  march,  borne 
on  the  morning's  breeze,  came  in  through  the  casement  and  fell  on 
his  ear.     He  sighed  deeply. 

"Gone — gone — to  Kentucky!"  he  sadly  murmured  to  himself. 
"  And  I  am  here  alone — left  without  a  friend — perhaps  to  die  ! 
They  go  to  meet  with  parents  and  sisters,  and  mingle  with  them 
in  joy  and  gladness  amid  the  haunts  of  olden  times,  while  I,  in 
sickness  and  pain  must  linger  here  in  strange  land,  with  strange 
faces  around  me,  where  no  one  will  care  for  me — and  all  the  kind- 
ness I  shall  receive  will  be  bestowed  because  I  am  a  Southern 
soldier.  Hard,  hard  fate  !  Oh,  the  horrors  of  this  dreadful  strife  ! 
When  shall  it  end,  and  we  be  permitted  to  return  to  home  and 
friends  in  peace  V 

Just  then  a  gentle  rap  was  heard  at  his  room  door.  He  wiped 
away  his  tears,  and,  assuming  as  cheerful  a  tone  as  he  could,  re- 
plied, "  Come  in."  Supposing  it  to  be  one  of  Mr.  Johnson's  fami- 
ly, he  drew  the  light  counterpane  up  so  as  to  conceal  his  face. 

"  Good  morning,  Charley  ! '  How  do  you  do  1  What,  old  fellow, 
here  by  yourself?  Where  is  Dr.  Lapsley  1  I  thought  he  was  go- 
ing to  cure  you  immediately,  so  that  you  might  go  into  Kentucky. 
Didn't  know  but  that  I  might  find  you  well  enough  to  set  out  with 
us  this  morning.  Came  by  to  see.  Say,  my  boy,  can't  you  be  off  ? 
I  cannot  bear  the  thought  of  leaving  you  behind.  How  do  you 
feel,  anyhow  1  Let  me  call  the  Doctor  ;  isn't  he  in  the  house  ? 
Perhaps  he  will  agree  for  you  to  go.  I  don't  know  but  a  ride  in 
the  cool  morning  would  do  you  good.  You  can  rest  in  the  beat  of 
the  day.  I  will  stay  with  you,  and  we  will  travel  only  when  it  is 
cool.    What  say  you,  Charley  ?" 

"  Oh,  John,  I  wish  I  could  go.  But  I  fear  I  am  too  sick.  My 
head  aches  dreadfully,  and  I  feel  feverish  and  full  of  pain.  But  I 
am  tempted  to  risk  it,  any  how.  I  had  just  as  well  die  in  the 
effort  to  return,  as  to  lie  here  and  waste  away.    I  am  sure  it  will 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN  203 

kill  me  to  remain  after  you  are  all  gone.    The  boys  have  all  left, 
I  suppose1?" 

"  Yes ;  started  out  but  a  little  while  ago.  Didn't  you  hear  their 
shouts  1  A  force  left  this  morning  before  daylight — an  advance — 
all  of  our  mess,  except  myself,  and  I  obtained  permission  to  re- 
main, to  come  over  and  see  how  you  did  this  morning." 

"  I  am  very  glad  you  did,  John,"  the  sick  man  replied,  looking 
gratefully  up  into  the  face  of  his  friend. 

"I  have  some  little  keepsakes  I  wish  you  to  take  home  for  me. 
I  intended  to  mention  it  to  you  and  Brent,  yesterday,  but  in  the 
confusion  of  the  hour,  I  entirely  forgot  it.  Look  there,  John,  in 
that  valise,  you  will  find  two  rings  and  a  breast-pin.  Give  the  one 
with  the  three  sets  in  it  to  my  sister,  the  other,  John,  with  the  two 
hearts,  to  Mary.  The  pin  I  wish  my  mother  to  have.  And  here, 
John,  take  your  knife,  and  cut  off  this  lock  of  hair,  and  give  it  to 
them  at  home." 

"  Why,  Charley,  what  do  you  mean  ?"  asked  his  friend  in  aston- 
ishment. "You  talk  as  if  you  were  making  your  last  will  and 
testament.  I  shan't  cut  off  your  hair  at  all.  You  will  be  sure 
then  to  think  you  are  going  to  die,  and  I  shall  not  be  able  to  per- 
suade the  home-folks  that  you  are  not  dead  and  buried.  No,  no. 
You  must  make  haste  and  get  well,  and  carry  your  own  love-tokens. 
"When  shall  I  tell  them  you  are  coming  ?  I  must  see  the  Doctor, 
where  is  he  ?     I  hope  he  will  decide  to  let  you  go  now." 

"John,  I  am  in  earnest.  I  know  you  will  not  refuse  me  this 
last  request,  before  we  part.  I  am  very  sick.  I  may  die.  I  de- 
sire that  those  three  articles  may  be  given  as  I  have  said.  They 
are  my  own  work,  made,  as  you  know,  at  Camp  Chase.  If  I  should 
die,  and  I  may.  you  know,  John,  they  will  be  little  mementos  that 
my  friends  will  cherish  for  my  sake ;  and  if  1  should  recover — 
why,  it  will  all  be  right." 

"  Oh,  well,  Charley,  I  will  take  them  if  you  wish  me  to,  you 
know.  But  there  is  no  need  of  sending  souvenirs  home,  that  I  can 
see.  You  will  get  'there  as  soon  as  we  do.  We  go  to  open  the 
way  for  you,  and  there  will  be  nothing  left  for  you  to  do  but  fol- 
low on." 

John  stepped  to  the  valise,  which  stood  in  the  corner  of  the 
room  under  the  stair  way,  and,  unlocking  it,  drew  forth  the  keep- 
sakes. 

'-'  Now,  John,  the  hair,"  said  Charley.  "You  know  that  is  an 
item  of  the  request." 

"  Well,  where  will  I  cut  it  ?"  inquired  John,  assuming  a  gay 
air,  although  he  felt  as  if  preparing  his  friend  for  the  coffin.  "  It 
will  gratify  you,  and  the  hair  will  do  for  the  girls  to  make  rings  of 
and  keep  in  their  memory  boxes.  You  know  all  the  ladies  take  a 
lock  of  Colonel  Morgan's  hair.  I  have  seen  them  myself  walk 
straight  up  to  him  with  a  pair  of  scissors  in  hand  and  clip  off  a 
bit  without  leave  or  license,  and  you,  Charley,  wish  to  be  as  re- 


204  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

tiowned  in  this  particular  as  the  Colonel.  Ah,  me,  we  are  all  am- 
bitious !  But  tell  me  where  must  I  cut  it  1  Here,  just  behind  the 
ear  ]     It  will  show  less  there  than  any  where  else/' 

"  It  matters  not,  John ;  wherever  it  suits  your  fancy." 

"  See,  here,  I  have  got  a  big  lock;  this  is  enough  to  give  .you 
renown  throughout  all  Louisville.  The  ornamental  hair-makers 
will  have  work  enough  for  weeks  to  manufacture  it  into  charms 
and  rings,  and  guards,  etc.,  etc.  But  where  will  I  find  the  Doc- 
tor, Charley  1  I  must  see  him  before  I  go,  and  it  is  high  time  I 
was  off.  The  Yanks  will  catch  me,  if  I  don't  look  out  pretty 
sharply." 

"  The  Doctor  is  up  those  stairs,  John.  I  don't  think  he  is  out 
of  bed  yet." 

"  Well  he  must  get  up  and  tell  me  just  exactly  how  you  are. 
That's  what  I  came  here  for.  I  wish  to  know  precisely  how  your 
case  stands.  I'll  go  up  and  rouse  him.  It's  high  time  he  was  out 
of  bed,  anyhow." 

Without  further  ceremony  John  sprang  up  the  stairway,  three 
steps  at  a  time,  and  approaching  the  Doctor's  bedside,  shook  him 
most  violently. 

"  I  want  to  know  just  how  Charley  is,  Doctor,  before  I  set  out. 
His  friends  will  be  anxious  to  hear  all  the  particulars.  He .  is 
awake  now." 

The  Doctor  made  a  hasty  toilet  and  descended  to  the  sick  man's 
room.    He  examined  him  closely,  and  shook  his  head. 

"  I  must  go,  Charley,"  said  John,  bending  over  his  bedside.  "I 
hope  you  will  soon  be  well  enough  to  join  us  in  old  Kentucky. 
Don't  give  up  ;  you  are  not  very  sick.  He  will  be  well  in  a  few 
days ;  won't  he,  Doctor  V 

"  I  hope  so,  in  the  course  of  a  week  or  ten  days  at  the  most," 
replied  Dr.  Lapsley. 

"  My  love  to  all  Kentucky  friends,  John,"  sr.id  Charley  in  a 
voice  choked  with  emotion,  while  his  bosom  heaved,  and  his  eyes 
became  suffused  with  tears. 

"  And  shall  tell  them  you  will  come  as  soon  as  you  get  well  V 

Charley  bowed  assent. 

"Good-bye,  Charley;  keep  in  good  spirits,"  and  John  shook 
his  friend's  hand  most  affectionately. 

Charley  returned  the  kindly  grasp,  but  no  words  escaped  his 
lips.    He  dared  not  trust  himself  with  utterance. 

John  wiped  away  the  tears  with  his  rough  coat-sleeve,  and 
grasping  again  the  outstretched  hand,  turned  hastily  away  and 
passed  out  of  the  door. 

The  Doctor  followed  him  to  the  stile. 

"What  do  you  think  of  Charley's  case,  Doctor?"  asked  John, 
as  the  two  walked  out. 

"  He  is  not  very  sick,  now ;  but  I  think,  from  all  his  symptoms, 
that  he  may  have  a  serious  spell.  He  is  greatly  threatened  with 
typhoid  fever." 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  205 

"  "What  shall  I  tell  his  parents  when  I  see  them  t" 

The  Doctor,  looking  down  on  the  ground,  hesitated  for  some 
time  to  answer. 

"  Tell  them,"  he  said  at  length,  "that  he  is  quite  sick,  but  not 
dangerously  so.  I  will  give  him  every  attention,  and  I  think, 
with  careful  nursing,  he  may  be  up  in  the  course  of  two  weeks  at 
most." 

John  shook  the  Doctor's  hand  warmly,  and,  mounting  his  horse, 
galloped  off  at  full  speed  to  join  his  command. 


CHAPTER    XLVI. 

THE  VISIT  OF  THE  ANGEL  OF  DEATH. 

Low  in  the  still,  dark  chamber,  the  young  girl  bent  over  the 
wasted  form  of  the  patient  sufferer,  as  she  lay  there  on  the  soft, 
white  couch,  resignedly  awaiting  the  summons  of  the  messenger 
that  should  bear  her  to  the  mansion  prepared  above. 

Long  had  the  tried  soul  looked  calmly  at  Death  as  one  who 
should  deliver  her  from  the  pain  and  sorrow  of  this  present  time, 
and  anxiously  had  she  desired  his  guidance  into  that  "  world  to 
come,"  whose  heavenly  glory  from  afar  had  shone  in  upon  her 
longing  spirit,  giving  it  a  foretaste  of  that  fruition  which  awaits 
the  humble  child  of  God  in  His  infinite  presence.  Day  by  day 
had  the  immortal  being  been  purified,  sublimated,  and  now  yet  a 
little  while  and  it  should  cast  off  the  last  lingering  remains  of 
earth,  and  rise  to  live  forever  amid  joy  unspeakable  and  full  of 
glory ! 

Faithfully,  tenderly  had  the  daughter  watched  beside  the  be- 
loved mother.  Gently  had  her  hand  smoothed  the  aching  pillow, 
soothed  the  fevered  temples,  wiped  the  damps  of  disease  from  the 
white,  transparent  brow  ;  had  administered  with  solicitude  to  each 
want,  had  anticipated  every  rising  desire. 

.  Her  form  was  that  of  an  angel  minister,  her  light  foot-fall  as 
sweetest  music  to  the  loving  mother,  whose  dimming  eye  would 
rest  with  louk  of  tenderest  affection  upon  her  darling  child.  And 
often  would  the  mother's  heavenly  aspirations  fall  back  to  earth 
and  linger  there,  as  she  thought  that  soon  she  should  see  no  more 
with  earthly  vision  this  cherished  one,  who,  bereft  of  a  mother's 


206  KAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

affection  and  care,  must  walk  the  paths  of  life  alone — no  guiding 
hand  to  point  out  to  her  its  hidden  snares  and  pit-falls. 

They  were  together  alone  one  evening — the  mother  and  daugh- 
ter. The  physician  had  just  left,  who  had  confirmed  the  opinion 
of  Mrs.  Lawrence  that  a  few  hours  more  might 'end  her  sufferings. 

It  was  a  soft,  still  September  evening.  The  golden  rays  of  the 
departing  sun  stole  faintly  in  through  the  draped  window,  and 
rested  on  the  couch  of  the  dying  woman,  and  then  fretted  out  in 
dreamy  lines  upon  the  dark  carpet  of  the  floor.  A  fire  was  flick- 
ering in  the  grate.  The  mantel  clock,  with  its  wonted  stroke 
measured  off  the  last  hours  of  the  waning  life.  Mary,  to  whom 
Dr.  Hardin's  words  were  not  unexpected,  for  her  quick  eye  had 
perceived  the  change  come  on  which  marks  mortality  for  the  tomb, 
but  upon  whose  young  and  devoted  heart  the  announcement  of  its 
certainty  fell  as  the  storm  on  the  crushed  flower — the  death-knell 
ou  the  ear  of  joy — sat  weeping  beside  the  bed,  holding  the  cold, 
wasted  hand  in  her's.  Her  heart  was  well  nigh  breaking,  yet  she 
endeavored  to  suppress  her  emotion,  for  she  would  not  disturb  by 
her  grief  the  last  moments  of  her  beloved  parent. 

The  dying  woman  fixed  her  languid  eyes,  beaming  in  their 
wasted  light  with  love  to  her  child,  upon  the  bowed  form  before 
her — then  closed  them — and  the  thin,  bloodless  lips  moved  in 
prayer. 

"  Mary,  my  child,"  she  said — her  voice  was  very  feeble.  "  God 
will  protect  you,  my  darling.'1 

The  young  girl  sobbed  aloud. 

"  Weep  not,  my  child.  I  go  to  be  forever  at  rest."  She  paused, 
for  her  breath  came  feebly  up.  "  And  you — God  will  shield  and 
protect  you.  You  have  given  Him  your  heart.  He  will  never 
leave  nor  forsake  you."  The  eyes  closed,  and  the  suffer  lay  silent, 
exhausted.  Recovering,  she  attempted  to  proceed — it  required 
great  effort,  "Trust  in  His  promises,  and  seek  his  guidance. — 
And  your  brother,  Mary,  should  you  ever  see  him  again,  tell  him 
my  last  moments  were  spent  in  prayer  to  God  that  he  might  be 
saved.  Urge  upon  him  the  necessity  of  turning  to  God.  Comfort 
your  father,  my  child.  He  will  be  lonely  now.  Weep  not  for  me, 
•Mary.     'Tis  the  Lord — He  doeth  what  is  right." 

The  sobbing  girl  slid  from  her  chair,  and,  kneeling  beside  the 
couch,  buried  her  face  in  the  clothes,  and  wept  convulsively.  The 
mother  lifted  her  feeble  hand  and  rested  it  amid  the  luxuriant  curls 
that  fell  over  the  bowed  face.  "  God  bless  you,  my  child,  and 
give  you  that  consolation  which  He  alone  can  impart.  And  be 
Thou,  oh,  Eternal  Father,  her  guide  and  strength  through  all  the 
coming  years  of  life  !" 

The  husband  entered,  and  seated  himself  beside  his  dying  wife 
and  sobbing  child.  His  heart  was  too  full  for  utterance ;  and,  as 
he  realized  the  solemn  scene,  the  tears  gathered  and  swept  down 
his  furrowed  face.  The  manly  form  was  buried  beneath  the  weight 
of  anguish  that  pressed  upon  the  chastened  soul. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  207 

The  wife  turned  her  look  to  his.  Her  breathing  was  growing 
each  moment  fainter  and  more  faint. 

"  I  am  going,  my  dear,"  she  said,  "  but  do  not  grieve  for  me. 
It's  bard  to  part  with  you  and  my  dear  children,  but  God,  who 
does  all  things  well,  calls  me  hence,  and  I  must  go."  She  paused 
for  breath.  Her  eyes  drooped.  For  many  minutes  she  was  silent. 
Her  breathing  became  more  oppressed,  The  color  appeared- very 
faintly  in  the  sunken  cheek.  She  pressed  her  hand  on  ber  heart, 
and  gasped  as  if  struggling  for  breath. 

Some  friends  entered  the  room  and  approached  the  bedside. 
"Air,  air!"  gasped  the  sufferer.  Mary  sprang  to  her  feet  and 
threw  open  the  window.     "  Lift — me — up,"  she  feebly  uttered. 

Mr.  Lawrence,  with  the  assistance  of  Mrs.  Douglass  and  her  sis- 
ter, Mrs.  Grant,  raised  her  from  the  pillow,  and,  supported  in  an 
upright  position,  she  motioned  to  be  removed  to  the  large  chair  in 
which  she  had  so  often  sat  when  suffering  from  this  difficulty  of 
respiration.  Gently  they  bore  her  and  placed  her  in  it.  She 
gazed  feebly  up,  while  a  half-formed  smile  played  round  her  lips, 
then  closed  her  eyes,  and  ber  head  sank  on  her  bosom.  Her 
breathing  became  more  and  more  labored.  The  pulse  in  the  fallen 
hand  less  and  less  distinct. 

"  Oh,  the  doctor  !  the  doctor  !  Run,  Maria,  for  Dr.  Hardin. 
Oh,  mother,  mother!"  exclaimed  Mary,  convulsively,  as  she  threw 
her  arms  wildly  around  the  suffering  form,  and  pressed  it  to  her 
bosom.  "Oh,  mother,  mother  !  can't  you  speak  to  me,  your  child. 
One  word,  just  one  word  !" 

The  husband,  trembling  in  every  nerve,  stood  over  his  dying 
wife,  bathing  the  pallid  brow.  Mrs.  Grant  and  Mrs.  Douglass 
rubbed  the  cold  extremities. 

The  anguished  daughter  could  do  nothing  but  cling  to  the  loved 
form  of  her  idolized  parent,  and  give  vent  to  the  bursting  grief  of 
her  heart. 

"  Oh,  mother !  don't  you  know  me — your  own  child  your  Mary  ? 
Oh,  mother,  dear  mother  !  speak  one  word  to  me — just  one  word, 
mother  !  Oh  !  you  are  not  dying — you  will  not  leave  us.  Mother 
— mother  !"  and  the  poor,  grief-stricken  girl  sunk  to  the  floor  and 
clasped  her  mother's  knees,  as  if,  in  her  frenzied  madness,  she  felt 
a  power  to  stay  life's  ebbing  tide. 

The  dying  woman  opened  her  eyes  feebly,  and  made  an  effort 
to  look  up.  The  lids  drooped  again,  the  labored  breath  grew 
fainter,  a  short,  quick  gasp,  and  Ihe  mother's  life  was  done  ! 

It  was  but  a  minute — so  quickly  passed — it  was  difficult  to  re- 
alize that  death,  in  ghastly  form,  was  in  their  midst.  When  the 
dread  reality  burst  upon  them,  the  father  sunk  on  the  bed,  speech- 
less with  grief.  Mary  uttered  one  wild,  piercing  cry,  and  fell, 
fainting,  to  the  floor. 

The  physician  entered.  He  read,  in  a  momeat,  the  fearful  fact. 
Assisted  by  the  servant,  he  plaoed  the  dead  form  of  Mrs.  Lawrence 


208  %  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

on  the  bed,  arid,  turning  to  Mary,  proceeded  to  restore  her.  It 
was  some  minutes  before  consciousness  returned,  then,  springing 
to  the  bedside,  she  threw  herself  on  the  cold,  rigid  form  of  her 
mother,  and  sobbed  as  if  her  heart  would  break. 

It  was  a  sad,  solemn  scene.  Death  had  come  to  claim  his  vic- 
tim, and,  though  not  without  warning,  it  was  hard  to  bow  to  his 
stern,  relentless  will.  Oh,  how  it  rends  the  throbbing  .heart,  to 
stand  and  gaze  on  the  cold,  motionless  form  of  one  who  but  a  few 
moments  before  was  with  us — whose  eyes  looked  fondly  into  our 
own — whose  words  of  love  fell  on  our  ear  as  whisperings  from  the 
upper  spheres !  We  gaze,  and  fear  and  wonder  mingle  with  our 
grief,  and  the  awe-filled  soul  asks  itself :  "Is  this  death?"  Ah, 
what  is  this  strange,  dread  power,  whose  fiat  none  can  withstand  ? 
And.  the  spirit — the  life  that  we  have  loved,  with  which  we  have 
walked  and  held  sweet  converse — where  has  it  fled  ?  ah,  whither 
gone  ?  and  shall  we  be  permitted  again  to  meet  it  and  enjoy  its 
companionship  ? 

,  How  often  along  our  pilgrim  path  are  our  most  cherished  hopes, 
like  the  beautiful  temlpe  before  the  whirlwind's  wrath,  dashed  to 
the  earth  by  this  invincible  power.  We  spread  out  on  the  glow- 
ing canvas  of  the  future  our  life-pictures,  colored  in  roseate  tints 
of  expectancy  and  joy,  and  when  the  scene  is  complete  in  beauty, 
and  happiness  alone  is  breathed  by  every  form  and  feature,  then' 
Death  comes,  and,  with  one  bold  master-stroke,  dashes  his  pencil,, 
dyed  in  darkness,  over  the  picture,  and  with  bowed  head  and  break- 
ing heart  we  stand  as  in  a  maze,  and  gaze  on  the  wrecked  loveliness 
over  which  despair  sits  brooding.  Ah,  what  can  console  the 
crushed  soul  under  its  poignant  sorrow?  What  impart  light  to  it 
amid  its  rayless  gloom  ?  Naught,  naught,  save  that  promise,  all 
radiant  with  the  beams  of  God's  infinite  mercy,  which  for  eighteen 
hundred  years  of  wailing  and  of  gloom  has  come  in  tones  of  heav- 
enly tenderness  to  the  hopeless  spirit : — "  I  am  the  Resurrection  . 
and  the  Life." 

Even  when  we  weep  over  the  grave  of  buried  love,  and  in  all" 
the  misgiving  of  our  contracted  vision,  we  ask,  with  the  patriarch 
of  old,  "  If  a  man  die,  can  he  live  again  ?"  there  comes  swelling  up 
in  tones  of  celestial  harmony  the  response,  "I  am  the  Resurrection 
and  the  Life,"  and  our  feeble  faith  "lifts  a  wing  with  the  angels," 
and  anchors  itself  hard  by  the  throne  of  God. 

The  night  wore  by.  I  will  not  attempt  to  depict  the  grief  of 
the  stricken  husband  and  orphaned  daughter. 

Morning  came.  In  the  still,  silent  chamber,  hung  with  the 
drapery  of  death,  the  lifeless  form  lay  robed  in  the  habiliments  of 
the  grave.  Beside  the  open  coffin  the  weeping  daughter  knelt 
alone  with  the  dead.  Through  streams  of  blinding  tears  she 
gazed  on  the  pale,  rigid  face,  until  the  accumulated  anguish  of 
her  soul  burst  forth  in  convulsive  gasps.  She  bowed  herself,  and 
in  the  bitterness  of  her  soul  wept  until  exhausted,  prostrated — 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  209 

her  grief  found  vent  only  in  sad,  low  moans.  Rising,  she  smooth- 
ed the  marble  brow,  placed  a  white  rose  on  the  pulseless  bosom, 
then  kissing  and  kissing  again  the  icy  lips,  she  took  .one  long, 
lingering  look,  and  turned  away  to  weep. 

It  was  the  daughter's  farewell  to  the  dead  mother.  Never 
again  did  she  behold  the  sleeping  form. 

Evening  came.  ,  Slowly  the  long  procession  of  mourners  moved 
through  the  street,  wending  its  way  to  the  "  City  of  the  Dead."' 

"  Dust  to  dust,  ashes  to  ashes,"  said  the  man  of  God,  as  the 
body  was  lowered  into  its  narrow  house.  Then  came  the  rattling 
of  the  clods  on  the  coffin-lid.  A  few  minutes  of  breathless  si 
lence,  while  the  hearts  of  the  spectators  commune  with  death, 
and  the  low  tones  of  the  minister  rise  in  subdued  notes  to  the 
throne  of  God  for  mercy  on  the  dying  congregation,  which  soon, 
one  by  one,  must  turn  aside  from  life  and  come  and  take  up  their 
abode  in  the  silent  chamber  of  the  grave. 

To  the  darkened  home  the  father  and  daughter  return.  Oh, 
how  sadly  desolate  !  how  fearfully  void  !  The  world,  too,  is 
dark,  the  heavens  hung  with  gloom,  Light,  light !  Ah,  it  is  no 
where  to  be  seen.  To  the  chambers  of  the  soul  enshrouded  in 
despair  hope  comes  not,  nor  is  there  a  whispering  of  joy  in  all  the 
music  of  the  earth.  Poor,  oppressed  mourners  !  naught  save  the 
voice  of  the  Gospel  can  carry  consolation  and  peace  to  thy  strick- 
en bosoms. 


CHAPTER  XLVIL 

GENERAL     KIRBY     SMITH'S     VICTORY      AT     BIG     HILL,     KENTUCKY. 

It  were  a  work  of  supererogation  io  dwell  lengthily  on  the 
campaign  in  Kentucky.  Every  reader  is  familiar  with  its  most 
trivial  incidents.  The  battles  of  Big  Hill  and  Richmond,  in 
which  our  men  drove  the  flying  foe  before  them  with  most  fearful 
slaughter — the  successful  occupation  of  Central  Kentucky  by 
General  Kirby  Smith's  army — the  victorious  as'sault  on  the  Fed- 
eral garrison  at  Mumfordsviile  by  a  portion  of  General  Bragg's 
forces — the  race  between  Bragg  and  Buell  for  Louisville,  and  the 

14 


210  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

great  excitement  of  both  parties  in  Kentucky  consequent  on  the 
relative  movements  of  these  two  Generals — the  great  rush  of  Fed- 
eral troops  into  the  State  to  oppose  and  drive  out  the  Southern 
army — the  bloody  battle  of  Perry ville — the  retreat  of  the  Confed- 
erates— all  these  stirring  circumstances  of  war  are  as  household 
words  to  every  Southern  heart. 

The  invasion  of  Kentucky  was  a  bold,  a  daring  movement. 
Could  it  have  been  made  earlier,  before  the  hosts  of  Lincoln 
troops  were  ready  for  the  battle-field,  it  doubtless  would  have 
proved  more  of  a  success  than  it  did.  As  it  was,  the  forces  that 
were  sent  against  the  Southern  army,  although  not  disciplined, 
were  well  armed  and  overwhelming  in  numbers.  The  movement 
of  the  Confederates  through  the  State  was  so  rapid,  as  to  make  it 
an  impossibility  that  large  numbers  of  recruits  should  join,  their 
ranks  ;  and,  while  in  this  respect  the  campaign  must  be  regarded 
as  a  failure,  the  want  of  success  should  be  attributed  to  the  un- 
favorableness  of  the  circumstances,  and  not  to  the  lack  of  de- 
votion on  the  part  of  a  large  proportion  of  Kentuckians  to  the 
Southern  cause. 

Kentucky  is  to-day,  if  her  intelligence  and  interest  were  allow- 
ed to  speak  out  boldly,  Southern — truly  Southern.  She  has  been 
duped,  deceived,  enslaved  ;  but,  seeing  the  suicidal  folly  of  her 
former  course,  she  is  now  beginning  to  awake  to  a  true  sense  of 
her  position  and  her  rights ;  and  she  will  yet,  let  us  hope,  stand 
nobly  forth  in  defence  of  these  great  principles,  for  which  the 
South  has  so  earnestly  and  victoriously  combated. 

The  campaign  has  been  pronounced  a  failure,  a  sad,  sad  faux 
pas,  and  the  commanding  General  has  been  sorely  censured  for 
want  of  ability  and  oversight  of  points  which  would  have  insured 
to  the  Confederate  arms  a  glorious  victory.  Were  the  design  of 
the  invasion  the  permanent  occupation  of  the  State  by  General 
Bragg's  army,  then,  indeed,  did  the  movement  most  sadly  mis- 
carry. 

If  the  object  was  to  withdraw  the  Federal  forces  from  their 
threatening  position  to  North  Alabama,  relieve  Eastern  Tennes- 
see, obtain  a  supply  of  provisions  and  clothing  for  the  men,  and 
give  the  Southern  sentiment  of  the  State  an  opportunity  to  enlist 
under  the  Southern  flag,  then  it  was  not  a  failure,  even  though 
the  expectations  of  the  friends  of  the  South  might  not  have  been 
fully  realized  in  any  of  these  particulars. 

General  Buell  was  compelled  to  withdraw  his  forces  from 
Southern  Tennessee  to  Northern  Kentucky.  The  Federals,  un- 
der General  Morgan,  found  themselves  forced  to  abandon  Cum- 
berland Gap,  and  thus  was  this  important  point  regained  to  us. 
Provisions  and  clothing,  to  a  large  extent,  were  secured,  and  if 
recruits  did  not  swell  the  ranks  of  the  Confederates  to  meet  even 
our  most  modest  hopes,  we  must  consider  all  the  circumstances, 
and  also  remember  that  General  Bragg  was  clothed  with  no  pow- 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  211 

er  of  conscription  whereby  to  enlarge  his  forces  to  the  desired 
maximum. 

That  expectations  were  not  met,  none  can  deny.  But  were  not 
our  hopes  the  offspring  of  desire,  rather  than  of  sound  judgment  ? 
And  even  if  all  was  not  accomplished  that  might  reasonably  have 
been  looked  for,  let  us  not  censure  where  we  do  not  fully  under- 
stand,. Failure  does  not  always  argue  a  want  of  capacity — and 
certainly  not  of  patriotism.  The*  contingencies  of  war  are  so 
many,  and  so  frequently  have  the  best  plans  of  the  best  Generals 
been  defeated  by  fortuitous  circumstances,  that  every  reasonable 
mind  must  admit,  that  '.'  the  battle  is  not  always  to  the  strong," 
but  that  the  band  of  the  Lord  of  Hosts  guides  to  results. 

The  bridal  party,  after  having  passed  a  joyous  week  at  Bards- 
town  and  vicinity,  returned  to  the  city.  In  that  short  time  Evan- 
geline Lenoir  had  become  the  affianced  of  Edward  Lasley,  a 
dashing  young  man  of  twenty-four,  who,  having  been  left  possess- 
or of  a  large  fortune  just  as  he  had  attained  his  majority,  had 
given  himself  up  to  the  indulgence  of  every  whim  and  caprice  that 
his  versatile  nature  could  suggest.  His  father  had  died  when  Ed- 
ward was  but  twelve  years  of  age.  His  mother,  whose  wedded 
life  had  not  been  happy,  owing  to  the  ascerbity  of  her  husband's 
temper,  and  his  continued  neglect,  of  her  comfort,  had  never  mar- 
ried again,  but,  with  the  devotion  of  a  tender,  loving  parent,  had 
given  her  whole  time  to  the  development  of  her  son,  devoting 
herself  with  the  most  solicitous  care  to  the  cultivation  of  such 
traits  as  her  judgment  approved,  and  to  the  suppression  of  those 
characteristics,  the  indulgence  of  which  she  felt  must  lead  him  to 
ruin.  But,  despite  her  vigilant  watchfulness,  the  son  had  grown 
up  hot-headed,  self-willed,  and  given  to  self-indulgence.  In  his 
early  childhood  he  had  manifested  this  wayward  disposition,  and 
shown  sad  proof  at  an  early  age  that  he  had  inherited  the  sporting 
character  of  his  father.  When  at  school,  he  was  always  the  lead- 
er in  all  disputes  and  combats — the  agonistarch  of  the  neighbor- 
hood. Handsome,  fascinating  when  he  desired  to  be,  he  had  won 
the  admiration  of  Evangeline,  who,  with  all  the  ardor  of  her  French 
nature,  had  been  captivated  by  the  handsome  face,  exquisite  mous- 
tache, and  easy  neglige  air  of  the  young  man,  who,  in  turn,  had 
yielded  to  the  charms  of  personal  beauty,  and  the  magnetic  power 
of  her  natural  vivacity  and  grace,  so  strikingly  in  contrast  with 
the  cold,  dead  manner  of  the  maiden  aunt,  who  was  now  the  only 
near  relative  he  had.  The  aunt,  with  whom  he  lived,  was  about 
sixteen  years  his  senior,  fastidious,  imperious,  captious.  Possessed 
of  am,  le  means,  Miss  Dorcas  Lasley  led  a  life  of  unhappy  indo- 
lence and  capricious  gratification,  spending  half  her  time  pluck- 
ing the  gray  hairs  from  her  head,  and  the  other  half  in  putting 
them  in  by  fretting  over  everything  that  came  within  her  purview. 

When  she  heard  that  "  Edward,"  as  she  always  called  her 
nephew,  was  devoting  his  attentions  to  Miss  Lenoir,  she  fell  into  a 


212  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

towering  passion,  declaring  that  a  boy  of  bis  age  was  not  capable 
of  judging  for  himself,  and  had  better  be  thinking  about  doing 
something  to  make  a  living  in  the  world.  Miss  Dorcas,  in  a  mon- 
etary view,  was  the  antipode  of  her  deceased  brother  and  bis  son. 
Frugal  almost  to  parsimoniousness,  she  had  added  each  year  to 
the  comfortable  estate  left  her  by  her  father,  until  she  had  grown 
to  be  one  of  the  wealthy  inhabitants  of  the  neighborhood. . 

The  bride  had  returned  to  spend  the  fall  and  winter  with  her 
mother.  This  Mr.  Spalding  had  promised  the  doating  parents 
when  they  consented  to  the  marriage  of  their  daughter;  He  had 
decided  to  engage  in  business  in  the  city,  and  the  arrangement 
was  a  very  happy  one  to  all  parties. 

Two  weeks  had  passed  since  the  marriage — about  the  same 
length  of  time  since  the  death  of  Mrs.  Lawrence.  During  that 
interval,  great  changes  had  been  made  in  the  position  of  the  Con- 
federate forces  in  Tennessee.  The  plan  which  had  been  adopted 
by  the  Generals  as  wisest  and  best  for  the  re-possession  of  that 
State  by  the  Southern  forces,  and  the  occupation  of  Kentucky,  if 
possible,  was  hastening  to  a  development. 

The  family  of  Mr.  R.,  seated  around  the  fire,  were  discussing  the 
prospects  of  the  fall  campaign,  when  Mary  Lawrence  entered,  clad 
in  deep  mourning,  her  face  expressive  of  the  greatest  excitement. 
Without  waiting  to  bid  them  good  evening,  she  exclaimed,  breath 
less  with  agitation,  "  Have  you  heard  the  news — the  glorious  news? 
General  Bragg  is  coming  into  Kentucky  ;  going  to  march  directly 
for  Louisville !  General  Kirby  Smith  is  already  in  the  State,  as 
you  know,  and  he  has  whipped  the  Federals  completely  near  Rich- 
mond, and  the  Yankees  are  now  flying  before  him  as  fast  as  they 
can  run.  Gen.  Bill  Nelson  is  killed,  too,  the  report  says,  and  the 
whole  army  is  literally  cut  to  pieces.  The  Union  men  in  the  city 
are  running  to  and  fro,  like  so  many  madmen,  scared  to  death  for 
fear  the  Confederates  will  march  right  down  on  Louisville,  and 
take  it  before  they  can  get.  troops  across  the  river  to  protect  it.  I 
never,  in  all  my  life,  saw  such  a  commotion;  the  whole  town  is 
frantic.  They  are  moving  everything  valuable  across  the  river, 
and  are  really  making  preparations  to  surrender  the  city,  I  believe." 

Exhausted,  the  young  girl  sank  on  the  sofa  beside  her.  Mrs.  R. 
looked  op  in  amazement,  while  Mr.  Spalding  sprung  to  his  feet  as 
if  electrified.  The  young  bride  remained  transfixed  to  her  seat, 
her  face  turned  with  the  most  earnest  look  towards  her  friend,  and 
filled  with  an  expression  of  wonder.     She  was  first  to  speak. 

"  Oh,  Mary,  Mary  |  can  all  this  be  true  1  I  fear  it  is  too  good 
to  be  believed.  Have  you  not  been  deceived  ?  The  city  is  always 
so  full  of  rumors  that  prove  so  false  when  you  test  them  ;  and  I 
fear  this  is  like  most  of  its  predecessors." 

"  True,  Lu  ?  of  course  it  is.  If  you  could  only  be  in  the  city 
for  an  hour,  you  would  not  be  disposed  to  doubt  it." 

"  What  is  the  authority,  Miss  Lasprence  1  did  you  understand  V 
asked  Mr.  Spalding,  eagerly. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  213 

"  Telegraphic  dispatches,  sir*  from  Lexington — dispatches  which 
have  been  received  to-day  at  headquarters,  and  which  Union  men, 
in  their  great  consternation,  could  not  conceal." 

"Oh,  that  it  may  be  true!"  exclaimed  the  young  bride,  clasp- 
ing her  hands  energetically.  "  Then  shall  we  once  again  see  our 
friends." 

"Oh,  you  need  not  fear,  Lu  ;  it  is  certainly  so.  The  whole  town 
is  tilled  with  the  intelligence.  All  the  Union  men  believe  it.  It 
has  come  by  telegraph,  and  will  be  in  to-morrow's  papers.  You 
never  saw  such  a  stir  in  all  your  life.  People  are  thronging  the 
streets,  and  it  looks  as  if  everybody  were  beside  themselves.  Pa 
came  rushing  in  after  dinner,  his  eyes  starting  from  his  head,  and 
he  was  scarcely  able  to  speak.  We  were  all  terribly  alarmed  at 
his  appearance,  and  could  not  imagine  what  was  the  matter,  and  it 
was  some  time  before  he  was  composed  enough  to  tell  us.  As 
soon  as  I  understood  the  story,  I  called  the  carriage,  and  Sunday 
evening  as  it  is,  I  drove  out  here  as  fast  as  I  could,  to  tell  you  the 
good  news ;  and  now  you  are  disposed  to  discredit  my  whole  story 
Isn't  that  too  bad  !" 

"  Oh,  no,  Mary,  I  would  not  doubt,  but  rather  fear  to  believe, 
lest  we  be  sorely  disappointed,  as  we  have  so  often  been  before." 

"Call  your  father,  daughter,  and  let  him  hear  the  glad  tidings. 
He  is  asleep  in  the  back  chamber,  Take  off  your  hat,  Mary.  Did 
you  go  to  church  to-day  ?  Mr.  R.  was  not  very  well,  and  wo  did 
not  go  in.  Really,  Mr.  McKee  is  such  a  coercionist,  I  cannot  en- 
joy his  sermons,  and  I  find  that  as  he  will  persist,  we  allow  the 
least  thing  to  keep  us  at  home." 

"  I  was  out  this  morning,  Mrs.  R.,  but  did  not  hear  Mr.  McKee. 
I  go  to  the  Baptist  Church.  Their  minister  preaches  the  Gospel, 
and  is  a  good  Southern  man,  though  no  politician." 

"Oh,  father,  father !"  cried  out  Lu,  thumping  against  the  cham- 
ber door,  where  her  father  was  sleeping.  "  Do  get  up,  in  a  minute, 
and  come  and  hear  the  good  news.  The  Southerners  are  all  march- 
ing into  Kentucky — Bragg,  Morgan,  Charley,  all,  going  to  take 
Louisville  and  hold  the  State." 

The  old  gentleman  sprang  from  his  bed,  aroused  more  by  his 
daughter's  wild  manner  than  her  message. 

"  Come,  father,  come  to  the  parlor.  Mary  Lawrence  is  just  out 
from  the  city — came  on  purpose  to  tell  us  all  about  it.  There  is 
no  doubt  of  it — all  the  Union  men  believe  it,  and  are  scared  out  of 
their  wits.  Mary  says  they  are  dashing  about  the  streets  like 
crazy  people." 

"  And  what  is  the  news,  Lu  V  asked  the  old  man,  rubbing  his 
eyes  to  get  them  fairly  open. 

"  Oh,  come,  father,  and  let  Mary  tell  you  herself;"  and  Lu  took 
his  hand  and  led  him  along  the  darkened  hall  into  the  sitting 
room. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mary  1"  said  the  old  man,  smiling,  and  ex- 
tending his  hand.    "What  is  this,  all  this   wonderful  news  Lu 


214  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

has  been  trying  to  tel^  me,  about  Bragg  and  'Morgan  coming  into 
Kentucky,  and  taking  Louisville  V 

"  Oh  !  Mr.  R.,  it  is  all  so,  sir  ;  everybody  believes  it." 

"  Believes  what,  Mary  ?"  asked  the  old  gentleman,  smiling  at 
his  young  friend's  eager  manner. 

"  Why,  that  General  Smith  has  whipped  the  Lincolnites  all  to 
pieces  at  Richmond — that  General  Bill  Nelson  was  killed  in  the 
fight,  and  Colonel  Jacobs  either  killed  or  seriously  wounded — that 
the  Yankees  are  retreating  as  fast  as  they  can  to  Louisville,  and 
the  Confederates  have  Lexington  by  this  time.  And  Gen.  Bragg 
is  coming  into  the  State  at  the  head  of  a  powerful  army,  and  the 
Southerners  are  going  to  hold  Kentucky.      It  is  true,  Mr.  R.,  that 

eneral  Kirby  Smith  has  routed  the  Federals  at  Big  Hill,  near 
Richmond,  and  is _ marching  victoriously- upon  Lexington.  This 
part  of  the  story  will  admit  of  no  doubt.  Pa  says  all  the  Union 
men  acknowledge  it,  and  are  half  wild  lest  he  should  move  on  and 
take  possession  of  Louisville  before  they  can  make  any  prepara- 
tion for  defence." 

"  And  do  you  think  all  this  can  be  relied  upon  V  asked  the  old 
man,  as  much  excited  as  any  of  the  party. 

"  Oh,  there  is  no  doubt  of  it,  sir.  Pa  had  had  it  from  the  most 
authentic  source.  You  know,  Mr.  R.,  Pa  is  not  a  very  excitable 
man,  and  by  no  means  credulous.  He  has  so  often  been  disap- 
pointed about  the  Confederates  coming  to  Louisville,  that  he  is. 
now  afraid  to  believe,  anything  in  our  favor.  But  he  thinks  every 
word  of  this  is  true,  and  you  would,  too,  Mr.  R.,  if  you  could  be 
in  town  half  an  hour  and  see  the  craziness  of  the  Unionists. 
They  are  running  hither  and  thither  half  the  time,  not  knowing 
what  they  are  about.  But  all  agree  in  saying  that  their  forces 
have  been  'butchered' — that  is  the  term  they  use — at  Big  Hill 
and  Richmond." 

"  And,  what  is  better  than  all,"  further  interposed  Lilly,  who, 
up  to  his  time,  had  been  a  silent  but  highly  interested  listener, 
"  Morgan  will  be  here  and  bring  all  our  friends  with  him.  Oh, 
won't  that  be  a  joyous  time?  I  am  sure  I  shall  be  too  happy.  I 
am  going  right  to  work  to  morrow  morning  to  prepare  for  them. 
All  the  peaches  and  preserves,  and  jellies  that  we  kept  so  long 
last  fall,  waiting  for  Buckner's  men  to  come,  are  nearly  gone.  I 
must  get  to  work  and  bake  dozens  of  big  cakes,  and  make  all  the 
nice  things  I  can  think  of,  for  brother  Charley  and  his  friends. — 
Won't  you  stay  and  help  me,  Miss  Mary  ?"  and  Lilly  sat  down 
beside  her  visitor,  and  grasped  her  hand  imploringly.  The  earn- 
estness of  her  soul  spoke  out  in  her  large  grey  eyes,  and  happy 
anticipation  from  every  lineament  of  her  face. 

"  Can't  stay  to-night,  Lilly,  but  I  will  come  out  again  to-mor- 
row, and  we  will  then  bake  the  cakes.  Pa  will  look  for  me  to  re- 
turn. He- is  lonely  now,"  and  a  sad  look  stole  over  Mary's  face 
as  she  thought  of  her  great  bereavement. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  215 

"  And  then  suppose,  girls,  the  boys  do  not  come  1  You  will 
have,baked  your  cakes  in  vain." 

"  Oh,  but  they  will  come,  Mr.  R.  And  if  they  don't — but  I 
will  not  allow  myself  to  think  they  will  not.  Lu,  don't  you  intend 
to  make  some  preparation  for  them?  and  don't  you,  Mrs.  R? 

"  Oh,  indeed  I  will,  Mary,  if  there  is  the  least  prospect  of  their 
getting  here.  I  shall  prepare  everything  good  I  can  think  of," 
responded  Mrs.  R.,  with  animation.  She  was  quite  as  enthusiastic 
as  the  girls,  and  ready  for  any  good  work. 

"  Indeed,  Lulu,  I  think  you  and  Miss  Mary  and  Lilly  had  better 
prepare  lint  and  bandages  for  the  wounded.  They  cannot  take 
Louisville  without  a  severe"  battle,  and  many  a  poor  fellow  mast 
fall  before  we  can  welcome  our  friends  back  to  their  homes  again." 

"  That  is  too  true,  Mr.  Spalding,"  responded  Mary,  thoughtfully, 
"  and  I  shall  not  forget  your  suggestion.  Oh,  my  heart  bleeds, 
when  I  think  that  perhaps  friends  may  fall  in  the  strife.  Oh,  that 
this  horrid  war  could  end  without  any  further  bloodshed  !  But  I 
must  leave,  it  is  growing  late.  Lilly,  get  your  hat  and  ride  in 
with  me.  Your  father  can  call  for  you  to-morrow — can't  you,  Mr. 
R?" 

"  I  will  bring  you  out  after  we  receive  the  morning  news." 

"  Can't  you  remain  with  us  to-night,  Mary  ?" 

"  No,  thank  you,  Mrs.  R.;  Pa  made  me  prouise  to  be  back  to- 
night. He  wants  the  carriage  early  in  the  morning  for  some  pur- 
pose. I  only  came  out  to  tell  you  the  good  news.  I  knew  you 
would  enjoy  it  so  much.  Mr.  McKee  would  be  almost  tempted  to 
church  me,  if  he  knew  that  I  had  been  engaged  in  such  '  unholy 
business.'  Don't  you  think  he  would  ?  Come,  Lilly,  where  is 
your  hat  1     We  have  just  time  to  drive  to  the  city  before  dark." 

Bidding  the  friends  good  evening,  the  two  girls  entered  the  car- 
riage and  drove  rapidly  to  the  city. 


.CHAPTER  XLVIII. 

DEPARTURE. 


Immediately  after  the  death  of  his  wife,  Mr.  Lawrence  gave 
up  his  establishment.  Bereaved,  saddened,  he  could  no  longer  re- 
main amid  the  scenes  of  his  former  joy  and  happiness,  now  so  en- 
veloped in  gloom.     He  took  boarding  for  himself  and  daughter 


216  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

with  a  friend,  a  distant  relative  of  his,  who  had  been  left  a  widow 
about  two  years  before.  Her  only  child  was  a  boy  of  seventeen, 
and  Mary  finding  but  little  companionship  in  the  house,  spent  as 
much  of  her  time  as  her  duty  to  her  father  would  -allow,  with  her 
friend  Lu,  who,  though  married,  yet  found  a  large  place  in  her 
heart  for  the  companion  of  her  childhood.  They  already  regarded 
each  other  as  sisters,  and  Mary's  grief  was  greatly  solaced  in  un- 
bosoming her  sorrows  and  anticipations  to  one  who  could  so 
readily  sympathize  with  her. 

Mr.  Lawrence's  time  was  very  much  occupied  in  settling  up  his 
business,  preparatory  to  moving  South.  As  soon  as  it  was  known 
in  Louisville  that  the  Confederate  forces,  under  General  Smith, 
were  assuredly  marching  into  Kentucky,  he  determined,  in  the 
event  they  had  to  leave  the  State,  to  go  out  with  them,  and  for 
this  purpose  he  was  daily  making  arrangements  for  a  speedy  de- 
parture from  the  city. 

When  Mary  reached  his  room,  she  found  her  father  sitting  in 
his  old  arm  chair  before  the  fire,  his  head  resting  on  his  hand,  and 
absorbed  in  thought.  She  was  pained  at  the  expression  of  his 
face,  for  in  addition  to  its  usual  sadness,  it  wore  a  look  of  anxiety 
and  gloom. 

She  approached  him,  and  throwing  her  arms  about  his  neck, 
kissed  him,  and  in  a  sweet,  persuasive  voice,  endeavored  to  win 
him  from  his  sorrow.  He  replied  tenderly  to  her  caresses,  and  as 
he  gazed  upon  her,  the  large  tears  started  to  his  eyes  and  silently 
coursed  down  his  cheeks.  She  wiped  them  away,  and  inquired 
the  cause. 

Seating  her  on  his  knee,  and  throwing  his  arm  around  her,  he 
proceeded  to  unfold  to  her  his  plans. 

"  I  have  been  thinking,  daughter,  while  you  were  out,  that  now 
is  my  opportunity  for  relieving  myself  from  this  galling  slavery, 
by  going  into  the  Confederate  lines  and  remaining  there." 

Mary  looked  up  astonished. 

"  Why,  father,  why  need  you  leave  Louisville  ?  The  South- 
erners will  certainly  take  possession  of  this  place.  There  is  no 
doubt  about  it,  Pa.  Just  wait  a  little  while,  and  you  will  see 
there  will  be  no  need  for  yo#to  seek  Confederate  protection — it 
will  come  to  you." 

"  We  cannot  now  know  anything  with  certainty  respecting  the 
permanent  occupation  of  our  State  by  the  Confederates,  my  daugh- 
ter, although  everything  looks  so  promising.  They  may  be  able 
to  hold  it,  and  they  may  not.  If  they  remain,  it  will  be  an  easy 
matter  for  me  to  return  to  Louisville ;  if  they  do  not  I  shall  be  safe 
in  leaving." 

Mary  looked  up  earnestly  into  his  face.  She  did  not  fully  com- 
prehend his  meaning.  She  waited  a  moment,  hoping  her  father 
would  explain  himself.  Bending  a  sad  look  upon  his  daughter. 
Mr.  Lawrence  resumed : 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  217 

"  The  only  obstacle  in  the  way,  Mary,  is  leaving  you." 

"  Leaving  me,  Pa  1"  she  exclaimed,  with  surprise.  "  You 
surely  wouldn't  go  and  leave  me  behind  ?  What,  would  I  do 
without  you  ?" 

The  father  scarcely  knew  how  to  reply.  There  were  difficulties 
in  either  case,  which  he  could  not  well  meet.  After  thinking  for 
some  moments,  during  which  time  Mary  gazed  beseechingly  upon 
him,  he  said : 

"  If  I  stay  here,  my  daughter,  I  may  be  arrested  at  any  mo-1 
ment  and  sent  to  prison.  If  I  go,  I  shall  be  free  from  this  dread- 
ful apprehension.  If  the  Confederates  remain  in  Kentucky,  I  can 
return  to  you  again ;  if  not,  I  can  send  for  you  at  any  time.  You 
will  be  safe  here  among  your  friends,  in  any  event,  and  I  may  have 
an  opportunity  to  send  for  you  if  the  Confederates  are  driven 
back.  For  me  to  remain  longer,  is  to  endanger  my  liber'y.  And  ■ 
as  my  preparations  are  nearly  completed,  I  feel  I  had  better  set 
out  the  first  suitable  opportunity." 

"  You  are  right,  Pa,"  said  Mary,  throwing  her  arms  about  her 
father.  "  I  would  rather  you  were  safe  in  the  Confederacy,  than 
to  have  you  remain  here,  all  the  time  in  fear.  And  then  as  you 
say,  they  may  arrest  you  and  put  you  in  prison,  as  they  did  last 
summer,  when  Morgan  was  here,  and  perhaps  they  would  not  re- 
lease you  in  years  to  come.  But,  Pa,  why  can't  I  go  with  you  1 
You  know  I'm  not  afraid  of  danger." 

"But,  Mary,  you  had  better  wait  until  I  can  get  through,  and 
secure  a  home  for  you.  I  shall  have  to  go  clandestinely  ;  they 
would  not  grant  me  a  pass,  and  I  may  have  to  walk  half  the  way 
to  Lexington.  The  roads  are  thronged,  I  suppose,  with  the  Fed- 
erals retreating  upon  Louisville." 

"  But  when  will  you  go,  Pa  ?" 

"  To-morrow  evening,  if  I  get  all  arrangements  made.  I  will 
drive  out  to  Dr.  Foree's,  and  send  the  carriage  back,  depending  on 
their  kindness  to  convey  me  beyond  danger.  It  is  best  that  I 
should  go,  Mary,"  added  the  father,  as  he  saw  the  flushing  face 
of  his  child,  and  readily  understood  the  mighty  effort  it  re- 
quired for  her  to  suppress  her  tears,  "You  understand  it  all,  my 
child?"    , 

Mary  buried  her  head  without  speaking.  Her  judgment  ap- 
proved her  father's  suggestions,  her  feelings  revolted  against  it. 

"  And  you  will  send  for  me  just  as  soon  as  you  determine  what 
is  be^t  to  be  done — won't  you,  Pa?"  she  said  as  cheerfully  as  she 
could. 

.  "  Yes,  mv  child,  or  come  after  you  myself  if  circumstances  will 
allow." 

"  I  must  go  to  Lilly,  now ;  1  left  her  below  with  cousin  Pauline. 
To-morrow,  Pa,  I  will  arrange  your  clothes  ;"  and  kissing  her 
father  again,  she  arose  from  his  knee  and  went  down  stairs  in 
search  of  her  friend. 


218  EAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

Exhausted  from  the  excitement  of  the  day,  Mary  sought  her 
room  at  an  early  hour.  After  conversing  for  some  time  on  the 
prospects  before  them,  the  two  girls  retired  to  bed.  Lilly,  young 
and  free  from  all  care,  soon  fell  asleep;  but  Mary,  to  whom  the 
last  year  had  taught  many  a  sad  lesson  of  anxiety  and  thought, 
lay  awake,  her  mind  distracted  with  doubt  and  apprehension,  and 
many  a  slowly  measured  hour,  wore  by  before  she  could  calm  her- 
self to  sleep.  She  awoke  with  the  early  morning  light  from  her  ' 
unrefreshing  slumbers,  and  making  a  hasty  toilet,  applied  herself 
to  preparations  for  her  father's  departure.  It  was  a  heavy  task 
for  her  poor  breaking  heart  to  accomplish,  but  amid  her  dark  trial 
she  had  one  consoling  thought  which  she  constantly  whispered  to 
herself — "  I  shall  soon  get  within  Confederate  lines,  and  then  I 
shall  see  Charley  and  my  brother !" 

"  I  cannot  go  with  you  this  morning,  Lilly,  but  I  will  be  out  late 
this  afternoon  or  to-morrow.  Meartwhile,  you  and  Lu  must  begin 
your  preparations.  You  see  what  Prentice  says,  and  moreover  the 
whole  Legislature  from  Frankfort  reached  here  a  few  minutes  ago, 
fleeing  in  hot  haste  from  the  Confederate  forces,  who,  it  is  said,  are 
now  in  possession  of  Lexington." 

"Be  sure  to  come  this  evening,  Mary  ;  we  shall  look  for  you." 

"  Lu  said  I  must  not  fail  to  bring  you  out  this  morning  Miss 
Mary,"  said  Mr.  Spalding,  rising  to  meet  them  as  they  entered  the 
parlor.  "  She  is  expecting  you,  and  so  is  Mrs.  R.  They  will  be 
greatly  disappointed  if  you  do  not  go.  Come,  get  your  hat ;  I 
cannot  be  denied."      * 

"Thank  you,  Mr.  Spalding;  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  go  out 
now.  I  have  an  engagement  that  will  keep  me  in  the  city  until 
late  this  evening.  If  I  am  well  I  will  drive  out  about  sundown ; 
but.  should  I  fail  to  do  so,  look  for  me  to-morrow.    Love  to  all." 

"  To-night,  Mary,  we  shall  expect  you,"  and  Lilly  kissed  her 
friend  and  sprung  into  the  carriage. 

'  "Don't  let  me  look  in  vain,  Miss  Mary,"  said  Mr.  Spalding, 
shaking  the  delicate  hand.  "  Lu  is  never  so  happy  as  when  you 
are  with  us." 

"  Ah !  Lu  needs  me  not  now,  Mr.  Spalding,  to  make  her  happy. 
You  have  stolen  her  from  me  and  I  am  left  alone." 

"  Soon  to  be  disposed  of  in  the  same  way,  I  judge,  if  the  Con- 
federates reach  Louisville,"  said  Mr.  Spalding,  mischievously,  as 
he  seated  himself  beside  Lilly  ! 

Mary  blushed  ■  the  two  bidding  her  adieu,  drove  off.       .  • 

Marv  accompanied  her  father  to  make  a  last  visit  to  the  grave 
of  the  "mother,  and  place  there  some  tokens  of  remembrance.— 
Above  the  hallowed  mound  the  two  knelt  and  silently  wept.  Their 
grief  was  too  sacred  for  words.  The  heart  alone  could  indite 
voiceless  petitions  to  the  throne  of  the  Unseen  Father  for  guidance 
and  consolation.  Ah!  what  pen  can  describe;  what  pencil  por- 
tray the  grief  of  the  crushed  heart  as  it  bows  over  the  grave  of 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  219 

Duried  love  1  A  mourner  on  the  waste  of  time,  the  sad  soul  wan- 
ders, and  sees  no  promise  of  hope,  save  in  the  goal  which  death 
offers. 

Placing  the  mementoes  of  love  on  the  newly  made  grave,  the 
father  and  daughter  arose  and  silently  wended  their  way  back 
to  the  carriage. 

Moments  there  are  in  the  life  of  every  individual  when  the  heart, 
communing  with  itself,  holds  its  joy  or  grief  too  holy  to  mention 
even  to  the  dearest  bosom  friend.  We  would  not  clothe  our  emo- 
tions in  words  to  whisper  even  to  ourselves. 

Evening  came.  Arrangements  were  completed  ;  Mr.  Lawrence 
was  ready  to  depart. 

"  Good-bye,  my  child !  God  bless  you  and  keep  you  from  all 
harm,"  he  said  in  broken  accents,  as  he  pressed  Mary  to  his  bosom 
and  kissed  her  tear-bathed  cheek.  The  sobbing  girl  clung  to  her 
father  in  silent  grief.  Oh,  how  desolate  she  felt  as  she  stood  there 
leaning  against  the  pillar  of  the  front  portico,  watching  the  car- 
riage that  bore  away  her  loved  parent — her  last  friend !  As  it  dis- 
appeared rrom  her  view,  she  burst  into  a  fresh  paroxysm  of  tears, 
and  turned  to  seek  her  chamber  that  she  might  weep  there  alone 
free  from  the  gaze  of  human  eyes. 

There  is  a  luxurious  relief  in  tears  when  the  stricken  soul  can 
weep  its  fullness  of  sorrow  away  unmolested  by  prying  curiosity 
or  cold,  hollow  words  of  sympathy.  Wha1  can  others  understand 
of  our  grief?  Even  though  another  has  felt  what  we  now  feci, 
has  not  time  measurably  healed  their  anguish  ?  The  remem- 
brance may  remain — the  poignancy  is  gone. 

And  then  how  s^d  a  thing  it  is  to  feel  ourselves  alone  in  this 
hollow  world  !  Alone  /  How  like  a  death-knell  falls  this  hollow- 
word  on  the  isolated  heart!  To  crowd  our  sympathies,  loves, 
joys,  sorrows,  expectations,  hopes,  into  our  own  bosoms,  there  to 
remain — for  we  are  alone  on  the  earth — what  oppressive  anguish  ! 
How  the  poor  burdened  soul  feels  like  bursting  as  it  vainly  seeks 
relief  in  tears  and  sighs  !  We  must  have  sympathy.  Life  with- 
out friendship  is  but  a  miserable  groping  mid  the  dark  labyrinths 
of  passion  and  despair.  The  nature  with  which  God  has  endowed 
us  requires  that  heart  commune  with  heart,  and  the  outer  life  can 
as  well  exist  without  its  legitimate  nourishment  as  the  inner  life 
without  sympathy  and  love.  Asceticism  is  an  anomaly — a  lusus 
naturce — the  contemplation  of  which  should  fill  every  well-poised 
mind  with  horror. 

Mary  Lawrence,  as  she  sat  weeping  in  her  chamber,  felt,  the  need 
of  some  congenial  spirit  to  share  with  her  the  grief  that  wrapt 
her  soul  in  darkness.  Instinctively  her  thoughts  turned  to  the 
friend  of  her  childhood.  Bathing  her  face  so  as  to  remove  the 
traces  of  her  bitter  tears  and  cool  her  fevered  brow,  she  threw  on 
her  hat  and  mantle,  and  calling  the  carriage,  drove  out  to  Mr.  R's. 

"Why,  Mary  dear!  what  is  the  matter  with  you?"  exclaimed 


220  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

Lu,  as  she  threw  her  arms  about  the  young  girl  and  kissed  her. 
You  look  as  if  you  had  been  weeping  for  hours.  No  bad  news,  I 
hope.    Do  tell  me,  have  you  heard  any  bad  intelligence  ?" 

Her  voice  was  tremulous,  and  she  grew  ashen  pale  as  she  looked 
upon  Mary,  who  had  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears. 

"  Come  into  mother's  room,"  she  said,  as  gently  taking  her  hand 
she  led  her  along  the  hall  to  the  family  room. 

"  Why,  Mary — Lu — what  is  the  matter  with  the  girls?"  said 
Mrs.  R.,  as  she  sprang  from  her  seat,  and  clasping  Mary  in  her 
arms,  partly  bore  her  to  a  rocking  chair  which  stood  beside  the 
window,  near  the  fire. 

The  mother  looked  inquiringly  at  her  daughter.  Mrs.  Spalding 
shook  her  head. 

"  Oh,  Mary,  do  tell  me,  my  child,  why  you  weep  ?  Have  you 
heard  any  bad  news  from  the  army  ?  Are  any  of  our  friends  sick 
or  dead?" 

Suppressing  her  emotion  as  well  as  she  could,  the  sobbing  girl 
ejaculated  in  broken  sentences  : 

"  No — no — Mrs.  R.,  not  that.  Pa  has  gone — gone — to  the  army." 

"  Your  father  gone  to  the  army,  Mary  !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  R.  and 
her  daughter  at  the  same  moment,  their  voice  and  manner  betray- 
ing the  greatest  surprise. 

"  Yes,  gone — gone — left  this  morning  for  Lexington." 

"  To  join  General  Smith  ?     Why,  how  can  he  get  there,  child?" 

Mrs.  R.,  with  the  gentleness  of  a  mother,  removed  Mary's  hat 
and  mantle,  and  by  kind  words  endeavored  to  soothe  her. 

After  a  few  moments,  she  sufficiently  recovered  from  her  emo- 
tion to  tell  Mrs.  R.  the  sad  tale  of  her  sorrow. 

The  friends  were  greatly  surprised  to  hear  of  Mr.  Lawrence's 
sudden  departure,  but,  when  the  reasons  were  given,  his  course 
appeared  one  of  wisdom.    . 

Mr.  R.  had  returned  from  the  city,  and  brought  with  him  the 
Bulletin  and  the  Evening  News.  The  latest  telegrams  were  filled 
with  the  success  of  the  Confederates,  their  advance  towards  Louis- 
ville and  Cincinnati,  and  the  consequent  panic  and  dismay  of 
Union  sympathizers  and  Yankee  soldiery. 

It  was  asserted  by  Prentice,  as  a  fact  incontestible,  that  Gen. 
Bragg  was  marching  northward,  with  the  avowed  design  of  taking 
permanent  possession  of  Kentucky  ;  also,  that  Colonel  John  H. 
Morgan,  at  the  head  of  a  large  cavalry  force,  had  been  dispatched 
to  intercept  the  Federal  General  Morgan,  in  his  retreat  from  Cum- 
berland Gap.  The  tone  of  the  editorials  was  gloomy  enough. 
Unionists  were  quaking  with  alam.  The  entire  State  was  threat- 
ened, a  part  of  it  already  in  the  possession  of  the  Confederates, 
who  were  daily  extending  their  lines,  and  daily  receiving  acces- 
sions to  their  ranks. 

"  Oh,  do  you  think,  Mr.  Spalding,  that  we  shall  be  able  to  hold 
Kentucky  ?"  said  Mary,  as  she  threw  aside  the  paper,  and  leaned 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  92) 

earnestly  forward  to  catch  his  reply.  "  Old  Prentice  is  evidently 
alarmed,  and  Harney,  too.  I  wonder  why  tbey  didn"t  send  Col. 
Morgan  to  take  Louisville?  I  am  afraid  General  Smith  will  wait 
until  the  Lincolnites  are  so  strong  here,  it  will  be  difficult  to  do. 
They  are  coming  in  every  day,  and  I  see  it  is  stated  in  the  New* 
that  General  Nelson  will  take  command  here  in  a  few  days.  I 
thought  he  was  severely  wounded  ?" 

"  And  so  he  was,. Miss  Mary  ;  but  it  has  been  two  weeks,  you 
know,  since  the  battle,  and  he  has  measurably  recovered." 

"  Mr.  R.,  do  you  think  the  Southerners  will  hold  Kentucky  V 

"  Indeed,  I  cannot  tell,  Mary.  That  will  depend  greatly,  yes, 
entirely,  on  General  Bragg.  It  is  impossible  for  General  Smith 
to  do  so  without  assistance.  There  is  a  great  contrariety  of  opin- 
ion respecting  Bragg's  intentions  ;  some  believing  that  he  designs 
to  remain  here  through  the  wjnter — others  that  be  only  wishes  to 
force  Buell  from  Tennessee,  and  regain  Cumberland  Gap,  by 
forcing  General  Morgan  to  abandon  it.  1  confess,  from  the  con- 
fused and  contradictory  statements  of  our  papers,  I  am  unable  to 
form  any  just,  decision.  No  one  can  decide  fully  what  will  be  the 
end  of  this  mighty  movement*  We  can  bur.  hope  that  it  may 
prove  eminently  successful ;  but  there  are  two  to  play  the  game, 
aud  some  of  the  Unionists  are  sanguine  that  the  whole  thing  will 
prove  a  failure." 

"  On  what  do  they  base  their  hopes,  My.  R.?"  asked  his  wife. 

"  On  their  numbers,  and  the  belief  that  Buell,  who  is  moving 
rapidly  on  Louisville,  will  reach  here  before  Bragg.  In  which 
event,  they  feel  confident  that  with  his  own  army,  combined  with 
the  reinforcements  that  they  ean  bring  to  this  point  from  Indiana, 
Illinois  and  Ohio,  he  will  soon  drive  the  Confederates  South 
again." 

"  I  hope  the  Confederates  will  not  attempt  to  come  to  Louis- 
ville now,"  interposed  Mr.  Spalding. 

"  Oh,  do  not  say  so.  Why  do  you  wish. this?"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Spalding  and  Mary. 

"  For  these  reasons,"  replied  Mr.  Spalding.  "  It  would  not  be 
worth  the  trouble  and  loss  of  life,  even  if  they  should  take  it. 
Everything  of  value  has  been  removed  beyond  the  river.  They 
would  only  get  some  shoes  and  clothing  which  the  Southern  element 
now  holds,  and  this  they  will  get  anyhow,  if  they  but  hold  Cen- 
tral Kentucky.  And,  moreover,  if  tbey  should  take  the  city,  they 
could  not  hold  it  against  the  gunboats  and  the  artillery  the  enemy 
could  bring  to  bear  against,  it  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  river." 

"But  would  the  Yankees  shell  it,  Mr.  Spalding,  do  you  think  ? 
Is  there  not  too  much  Union  capital  here  for  that?" 

"  But,  even  admitting  Mr.  R.,  that  this  would  not  be  done,  it 
would  certainly  be  too  far  North  for  a  base  for  the  Confederates. 
They  should  be  nearer  the  centre  of  the  State.  Remember,  the 
Cumberland  and  Tennessee  rivers  are  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy." 


222  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

"  That  is  very  true,  sir;  and  I  suppose  if  the  Confederates  leave 
the  State,  they  will  go  out  by  way  of  Cumberland  Gap  ?" 

"  Undoubtedly,  so.  There  is  no  other  safe  exit  for  them.  And 
your  father  has  gone  to  Lexington,  Mary  1  I  was  astonished 
when  Mr.  Sparke  told  me  of  it.  What  was  his  idea  for  leaving  V 
■  "  To  get  into  Dixie,  Mr.  R.,"  replied  Mary,  choking  down  the 
tears  that  were  ready  to  overflow  at  the  mere  mention  of  her 
father's  name.  "  Tt  has  been  his  intention  for  some  time  to  go 
South  as  soon  as  he  could,  and  regarding  this  as  a  fine  opportunity 
to  get  within  Confederate  boundary,  he  determined  to  avail  him- 
self of  it.  fearing  if  he  should  delay  he  might  have  difficulty,  even 
if  he  should  succeed  at  all,  and  he  knew  if  he  remained  he  would 
be  imprisoned."  „ 

"  A  very  wise  decision,  I  think.  And  he  has  left  you  to  us, 
I  hope,  Mary  V 

"  Oh,  I  am  going  through  too,  just  as  soon  as  Pa  finds  out  what 
the  Southerners  are  going  to  do.'' 

"  But  you  will  stay  with  us,  Mary,  until  you  do  go  through  ?" 
said  Lilly,  beseechingly. 

"Oh,  yes,  Lilly,  I  will  stay  with  you  a  great  deal.  This  is 
more  like  home  to  me  now,  than  any  other  spot  on  earth,"  she 
added,  with  a  sigh,  "  I  never  go  to  my  old  home,  now  that  another 
owns  it." 

Ten  o'clock  came.  The  family  retired.  Lilly  and  Mary  re- 
mained in  the  sitting-room,  as  girls  are  wont  to  do,  after  the  others 
had  left,  to  talk  over  their  own  particular  plans. 

"Oh,  Mary,  how  I  wish  I  could  go  through  to  Lexington  with 
you.  I  am  almost  crazy  to  see  brother  Charley.  I  wonder  if  Pa 
will  let  me  go  1  You  know  he  consented  for  sister  Lu  to  go  to 
Camp  Chase." 

"  We  can  ask  him,  Lilly.  I  hope  we  will.  I  should  be  so 
glad  to  have  you  with  me." 

"  But  how  will  we  get  back,  Mary,  if  the  Southerners  have  to 
leave  Kentucky  V 

"  Oh,  Lilly,  I  am  going  out  with  them.  Didn't  you  know  that? 
We  are  going  South  to  live." 

"  And  what  would  I  do  V* 

"  Can't  you  go,  too  ?  A  winter  South  would  be  fine  for  your 
health,"  replied  her  friend,  pleasantly.  "  Or,  Lilly,  if  you  can't 
go  South,  you  could  remain  in  Lexington  or  Georgetown,  until  the 
railroad  communication  is  established,  and  then  return  to  the 
city." 

"  That  I  could.  And  I'll  ask  Pa  to-morrow  to  let  me  do  this. 
Sister  Lu  will  be  here  to  keep  mother  company,  and  I  shan't  go 
to  school  any  more  this  fall.  I  expect,  Mary,  Evangeline  Lenoir 
would  be  glad  to  go  with  us.  You  know  her  sweetheart,  Harry 
Roberts,  is  with  John  Morgan  ?" 

"  Oh,  my  dear  girl,  you  are  mistaken.     Harry  used  to  be  Evan- 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  223 

geline's  sweetheart,  but  she  has  proved  false  to  him.    Don't  you 
you  know  she  is  engaged  to  Edward  Lasley,  of  Bardstown  ?" 

"  Oh,  I  don't  believe  that,  Mary.  I  have  heard  it.  But,  surely, 
she  would  never  think  of  giving  up  such  a  lover  as  Harry  Roberts 
for  young  Lasley  1  Lasley  has  nothing  to  recommend  him  but  his 
fine  appearance  and  his  fortune,  while  Harry  is  noble,  true,  brave, 
one  of  the  finest  young  men  in  all  this  city." 

"  But  Evangeline  is  assuredly  engaged  to  Ed.  Lasley.  I  know 
it,  and  they  are  to  be  married  the  sixteenth  of  next  month.  She 
wished  me  to  be  bride's-maid,  but  you  know,  even  if  I  were  going 
to  remain  here,  I  could  not  accept  her  invitation.  I  would  not 
change  my  dress  to  be  married  myself." 

"  Oh,  is  it  possible  !  How  shameful  in  Evangeline  to  treat  Har- 
ry so.  He  is  one  of  the  noblest  young  men  in  the  world.  She 
may  live  to  repent  her  folly.  Ed.  Lasley  is  by  no  means  steady 
in  his  habits." 

"  But  he  has  money.  Evangeline  has  none.  And,  moreover, 
she  is  fickle." 

"  Her  aunt  is  wealthy,  Mary,  and  has  no  children.  Of  course, 
she  will  inherit  that,  fortune.     She  need  not  marry  for  money." 

"  Oh,  she  is  so  notionate  and  inconstant,  by  nature.  And  what 
a  pity,  too ;  she  is  so  beautiful,  so  generous  and  kind.  It  will  be 
a  sad  blow  to  poor  Harry,  when  he  hears  it,  for  he  idolizes  her,  and 
cannot  see  that  she  has  a  defect.  Poor  fellow  !  it  is  hard.  But, 
then,  perhaps  she  would  not  make  him  happy,  and  it  may  be  for 
.  the  best." 

"  Oh,  if  she  were  married,  I  am  sure  she  and  Harry  would  be 
happy,  she-is  so  affectionate.    And  she  loves  him,  I  know." 
Just,  then  a  loud  knock  was  beard  at  the  front  door. 
"What  can  that  mean,  Lilly  I"    said  Mary,  starting  up  with 
fright. 

The  two  girls  stared  at  each  other  in  breathless  silence,  their 
hearts  beating  audibly. 

"  Perhaps  it  is  some  drunken  Lincolnite,"  whispered  Lilly,  as 
she  moved  close  up  beside  Mary,  and  grasped  her  arm. 

"  Perhaps  we  were  mistaken,  Lilly.  It  might  have  been  some 
other  noise.  But  didn"t  it  sound  very  much  like  a  rap  at  the 
door  ?" 

"  Indeed  it  did  ;  but  it  might  have  been  some  of  the  servants 
in  the  kitchen." 

The  two  girls  stood  breathless  for  a  moment.  Rap,  rap,  rap, 
went  the  door  again,  louder  than  before. 

The  affrighted  girls  hesitated  no  longer,  but,  seizing  the  lamp, 
hastened  through  the  hall  into  Mrs.  R.'s  sleeping-room. 

"  Father,  father,"  said  Lilly,  in  a  whisper,  at  the  same  time 
shaking  her  father  with  all  her  power  ;  "  iather,  there  is  somebody 
a,t  the  front  door — we  have  heard  them  knock  twice." 

"  Oh,  you  must  be  mistaken,  my  daughter,  no  one  could  come 
here  without  arousing  the  dogs.    Have  they  beeen  barking  V 


224  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

"  No,  sir,  I  have  not  heard  them." 

"  Well,  then,  you  are  mistaken,  daughter.  Go  to  bed.  It's 
too  late  for  you  and  Mary  to  be  up,"  and  Mr.  R.  turned  over  to 
compose  himself  again  to  sleep. 

"  There  it  is  again,  father.    Don't  you  hear  it  ?" 

The  old  gentleman  sprang  from  his  bed,  and,  hastening  to  the 
window,  called  out  in  a  stentorian  voice  :  "  Whose  there,  and  what 
do  you  want  at  this  hour  of  the  night  1" 

The  two  girls  stood  trembling  with  fear,  lest  a  bullet  from  some 
Lincoln  gun  should  speed  its  way  into  the  room. 

"  Be  still,  girls  ;  let's  hear  what  the  man  says,''  wispered  Mrs. 
If,.,  as  her  husband  threw  open  the  shutters. 

"Who  are  you?"  repeated  the  old  gentleman,  as  the  visitor, 
forsaking  the  porch,  approached  and  stood  under  the  window. 

"A  Southern  soldier — one  of  Morgan's  men,"  was  the  answer. 

"  Charley — Charl'ey  !"  shrieked  Lilly,  and  rushed  to  the  win- 
dow. Her  father  caught  her  and  drew  her  back.  "  Charley  !" 
she  exclaimed,  "  is  that  you,  my  brother — my  brother  1" 

"  It  is  not  your  brother,  but  I  bring  news  of  him." 

"  And  where  is  he— oh,  tell  me,  is  my  brother  dead  ?" 

"  Be  still,  my  daughter,"  said  Mrs.  K.,  as  she  drew  the  pale  and 
trembling  girl  from  the  open  casement. 

"  Mr.  R.,  having  prepared  himself,  went  out,  light  in  hand,  to 
ask  the  soldier  in. 

"  I  have  but  a  few  minutes  to  remain,  sir.  I  must  be  off  again 
to-night,  or  the  Yankees  may  catch  me,"  responded  the  young 
man  to  Mr.  E-.'s  invitation  to  enter. 

"But  you  will  have  time  to  come  in  and  warm  yourself,  and 
take  a  hasty  meal.  It  is  several  hours  to  day  yet.  Com  in,  sir — 
come  in." 

The  soldier  followed  Mr.  R.  into  the  sitting-room,  where  the 
fire  was  still  burning  in  the  grate. 

"  I  have  a  letter  for  Miss  Mary  Lawrence.  Is  she  with  you, 
sir  V*  said  the  soldier,  as  he  passed  through  the  hall. 

At  the  mention  of  her  name,  the  young  girl,  who  stood  within 
the  door,  stepped  forward. 

The  letter  was  handed  her.  She  tore  the  envelope  and  glanced 
at  the  name.     It  was  from  Charley. 

"  And  is  he  dead  V  she  gasped  convulsively.  "  This  is  writ- 
ten in  Tennessee.     Where,  oh,  where,  is  he  now  V   • 

"  He  is  still  there." 

"  Oh,  do  not  deceive  me,  I  beseech  you,  do  not  deceive  me. 
Tell  me  truly  is  he  dead  !"  and  the  trembling  girl,  "unable  longer 
to  stand,  sank  on  a  sofa  beside  her,  and  with  ghastly  look  gazed 
up  into  the  young  man's  face. 

"  Who,  who  !"  exclaimed  the  father,  mother  and  sister  in  one 
breath.    "  Who  is  dead  ?  your  brother  or — " 

"  Charley  1"  was  the  scarcely  articulate  reply. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  225 

"  Oh,  no,  no  !  I  assure  you  he  is  not  dead,"  exclaimed  young 
Brent,  for  it  was  he,  faithfully  executing  the  pledge  entrusted  to 
him.  "He  is  not  dead,  sir;  I  left  him  quite  sick,  as  he  writes 
there  to  Miss  Lawrence,  but  his  physician  assured  me  he  would 
recover." 

The  burdened  hearts  breathed  more  freely. 

"  Thank  God  !  thank  God  !'*  exclaimed  the  mother,  tears  of 
gratitude  streaming  from  her  eyes.  "  Thank  God  !  my  boy  yet 
lives  !" 

"  Be  seated,  sir,"  said  Mr.  R.,  conducting  the  young  man  to  the 
fire,  and,  drawing  up  a  large  arm-chair  before  its  genial  warmth, 
led  him  to  it. 

At  this  moment  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Spalding,  who,  when  aroused  by 
the  noise,  lad  made  a  hasty  toilet,  descended  the  stairway  and 
entere4  the  room. 

"Why,  how  do  you  do,  Mr.  Brent?"  said  Mrs.  Spalding,  ad- 
vancing and  shaking  the  young  man's  hand. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Miss  Lu  ?"  said  the  young  man,  rising. 

'■  Let  me  introduce  you  to  Mr.  Spalding,  Mr.  Brent." 

"  Happy  to  see  you,  Mr.  Brent,"  said  Mr.  Spalding,  shaking 
hands  with  the  soldier,  who  looked  at  him  a  moment  surprised. 

"  Ah,  me,  Miss  Lu,  I  understand.  Yes,  Charley  told  me  you 
were  to  be  married,  and'  we  had  hoped  to  get  to  Louisville  to  the 
wedding." 

"And  where  is  my  brother,  Mr.  Brent ;  isn't  he  with  you?" 

"He  was  not  well  enough  to  join  the  command  when  we  set  out 
from  Tennessee,  and  we  were  forced  to  leave  him  behind." 

'•  AVas  he  ill  ?"  she  asked,  quickly. 

"  Quite  sick  ;  but  his  physician  assured  me  he  would  recover. 
He  had  fever,  and  was  unable  to  bear  the  fatigue  of  so  long 'a 
trip." 

"  Had  he  been  long  sick,  Mr.  Brent  ?"  asked  the  mother. 

•'  Only  a  few  days,  madam." 

"  And  was  he  confined  to  his  bed  ?" 

"  Yes,  madam.  The  physician  thought  he  needed  rest.  He  had 
been  taking  a  great  deal  of  exercise,  and  was  pretty  well  worn  out. 
Dr.  Lapsley,  who  is  a  most  excellent  physician,  will  stay  with  him 
until  he  recovers." 

"  And  where  is  my  brother,  John  Lawrence,  now  ?"  said  Mary, 
as  she  folded  the  letter  she  had  just  finished  reading. 

"  I  left  him  with  Colonel  Duke,  near  Lexington." 

"  And  will  he  not  come  to  Louisville  ?" 

"  Yes,  if  we  take  possession  of  it;  but,  otherwise,  I  think  Col. 
Morgan's  men  will  be  retained  around  Lexington.  It  is  rather  a 
dangerous  experiment  for  us  to  come  alone  into  the  city.  One  of 
our  men  was  caught  in  the  streets  this  evening,  and  sent  to  prison." 

"  Who  was  this?"  asked  Mr.  Spalding. 

"  Harry  Roberts,  sir,  of  Col.  Morgan's  command.      It  seems 
15 


22G  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

Harry  had  a  sweetheart  that  he  was  determined  to  see,  so  he  came 
to  Louisville  at  all  hazards,  and  this  evening  some  Union  man  re- 
cognized him  on'  the  street,  and  he  was  immediately  arrested.  I 
took  warning  by  his  fate  and  left  for  the  country." 

Just  at  this  juncture  Mr.  R.  appeared,  followed  by  a  servant, 
bearing  a  large  waiter  of  nice  lunch,  which  was  placed  before  the 
young  man,  who  was  pressed  to  eat. 

Mary  stood  all  the  while  beside  the  lamp,  reading  and  re-reading 
the  letter,  the  tears  streaming  down  her  cheeks  and  all  unconscious 
of  the  presence  of  others.     Lilly  stole  to  her  side  and  whispered  :  ■ 

"  Did  you  hear  that,  Mary,  about  pOor  Harry  Roberts  1  Isn't 
it  sad  to  think  he  should  come  to  see  Evangeline,  and  she  engaged 
to  be  married  to  another?     And  now  he  is  in  prison — " 

"  In  prison,  Lilly — where — how  1  I  did  not  understand,"  said 
Mary,  looking  on  Lilly  abstractedly. 

"  In  prison  here  in  Louisville.  Came  to  see  Evangeline  and  was 
arrested." 

"  Poor  Harry  !"  ejaculated  Mary.     "  Sad;  sad  fate  !" 

"  I  will  go,"  said  Mary  to  herself,  as  she  folded  the  letter,  and 
replaced  it  in  the  envelope. 

"  Go  where,  Mary — to  prison  V  asked  Lilly,  with  surprise. 

"  Oh,  nowhere,  Lilly,"  she  replied,  coloring  deeply. 

While  young  Brent  was  partaking  of  the  timely  cheer,  he  hasti- 
ly gave  to  his  anxious  listeners  a  brief  outline  of  the  Confederate 
movements  in  Kentucky  since  Colonel  Morgan  had  joined  General 
Smith  at  Lexington. 

"  J  must  go,"  said  he,  rising  to  his  feet.  "  I  wish  I  could  re- 
main longer,  but  the  hours  are  swiftly  passing,  the  morning  will 
soon  be  here,  and  it  will  not  do  for  it  to  find  me  within  danger." 

Messages  were  sent  to  friends.  Thanking  them  for  their  kind- 
ness, he  bade  them  adieu  and  departed. 


me! 


CHAPTER  XLIX.      , 

UPBRAID1NGS. 

•«  Oh,  Evangeline !    Evangeline!    how  could  you  thus  deceive 


"  I  loved  him  from  my  childhood,  Edward,"  she  sobbed  pas- 
sionately-   "  How  could  I  do  otherwise  V 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  227 

"  But  you  have  promised  me,  Evangeline.  Look  at  this  my 
token  of  that  pledge." 

"  And  I  promised  him  long  years  ago,  when  we  were  children," 
she  replied,  looking  up  through  her  streaming  tears.     "  Oh,  forgive 
me,  forgive  me,  Edward  !     I  did  not  mean  to  do  so  !     But  Harry, 
you  know,  I  have  loved  him  so  long;  and  now  he  is  in  prison,  how  . 
could  1  forsake  him?" 

"  And  do  you  mean,  Evangeline,  to  prove  false  to  me  ?  Must 
I  understand  that  you  no  longer  regard  your  plighted  vows;" 

"Oh,  Edward,  do  not  ask  me!  You  drivn  me  mad  with  such 
questions  !  I  am  wild  !  wild  ' — my  brain  aches  !"  she  exclaimed, 
looking  frantically  around  her. 

"  You  must  answer  me,  Evangeline  !  Will  you  marry  me  as 
you  have  promised  ?  You  know  the  day  is  appointed  and  prepa- 
rations are  already  commenced.  Surely,  you  will  not  now  decline? 
You  cannot,  for  public  opinion  demands  that  you  fulfill  your  en- 
gagement !" 

"  Oh,  public  opinion  is  but  a  poor  solace  for  a  bleeding  heart, 
Edward!  When  our  hearts  are  breaking,  it  matters  bat  little 
what  the' world  saj 

"  But  you  do  not  mean  to  say,  Evangeline,  that  you  do  not  love 
me — that  you  hesitate  to  marry  uie  ?  Am  I  to  find  in  you  the 
fickleness  and  unfaithfulness  that  characterize  your  nature  ?  Re- 
member, you  have  given  your  word  to  he  mine — have  pledged  to 
marry  me.  This  is  known  to  the  world,  and  what  will  the  world 
say  if  you  fail  to  keep  your  word  .'  ft  will  upbraid  you  as  incon- 
stant— full  of  whim  and  caprice,  and  cove/  your  name  with  re- 
proach !" 

"Oh!  I  know  it  all,  Edward!  Do  not — do  not  talk  to  me 
thus !  I  know  I  will  be  called  foolish,  and  perhaps  I  am.  I  may 
be  taunted  as  inconstant,  notionate,  heartless;  but,  God  knows,  I 
have  loved  truly,  faithfully.  Why,  oh,  why,  should  I  have  ever 
forgotten  that  love!" 

"  You  do  not  love  me,  then,  Evangeline  ?  You  will  not  marrv 
me?" 

She  did  not  answer,  but,  hiding  her  face  in  her  hands,  wept  bit- 
terly. 

"  Answer  me,  Evangeline  !  I  will  not  be  thus  trifled  with  !" 
and  a  dark  scowl  gathered  over  his  face  as  he  fixed  his  eyes  on 
her  bowed  form'.  His  voice  was  severe  even  to  harshness.  She 
felt  it,  and  shuddered  as  she  did. 

"  You  will  not  answer,  Evangeline  ?  Why  do  you  treat  me  so  ? 
I  cannot  submit  to  it  j  I  will  no  longer  endure  it!"  and  he  sprang 
from  the  sofa  and  paced  the  room  with  rapid  strides.  Evangeline 
still  wept  aloud. 

"  Great  God  !"  he  exclaimed  passionately,  "  am  I  to  be  mocked 
thus  !  What  have  I  done  to  deserve  such  a  fate !  I  will  not  bear 
this  suspense — she  shall  answer  me  I"   and  he  stamped  his  foot  in 


228  •  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

his  rage,  then  strode  on  across  the  floor,  his  whole  manner  that  of 
a  madman. 

His  wrath,  partially  exhausted  by  his  rapid  exercise,  he  threw 
himself  on  the  sofa  beside  her,  and,  forcing  her  hands  from  her 
face,  exclaimed : 

"  Evangeline,  you  must  tell  me — and  tell  me  now  !"  She  start- 
ed, and  struggled  to  free  herself,  but  he  held  her  tigHtly  in  his 
grasp.  "Do  not  strive  to  go  from  me,  Evangeline.  This  question 
must  be  settled  now  and  forever."  She  looked  at  him  fiercely, 
defiantly. 

"Loose  me,  Edward — loose  me!  1  will  not  be  forced  !"  All 
the  passion  of  her  nature  spoke  from  her  face.  "  Loose  me,  and  I 
will  tell  you  all ;  but  you  cannot  extort  from  me  one  syllable.  I 
will  not  be  driven  !" 

The  young  man  dared  not  disobey.  The  inferior  nature  always 
yields  to  the  superior.  He  relaxed  his  grasp,  and  sat  eyeing  her 
with  a  look  of  mingled  wonder  and  sternness. 

Evangeline,  nerving  herself,  drove  back  her  tears,  and  looking 
him  steadfastly  in  the  face,  said,  with  a  degree  of  calmness  quite 
surprising  : 

"  Edward,  I  have  loved  Harry  Roberts  from  my  childhood.  I 
love  him  stjll.  I  thought  when  I  promised  to  marry  you  that  I 
had  forgotten  him  and  loved  you.  I  was  mistaken.  If  I  have 
wronged  your  heart,  forgive  me,  oh,  forgive  me !  but  I  cannot 
marry  one  I  do  not  love !  I  cannot  forsake  one  to  whom  my  heart 
is  wedded,  now  that  he  is  in  prison  and  suffering!" 

The  noble  sentiment  of  the  noble  girl  fell  idly  on  the  ears  of 
young  Lasley. .  He  understood  but  one  thing — that  Evangeline 
could  not  marry  him. 

"  Cannot  marry  me,  Evangeline !  Is  this  your  decision  ri  Do 
you  forget  that  you  are  bound  by  a  solemn  promise  to  do  so  ?  You 
dare  not  break  that  promise ;  I  cannot  release  you." 

"  And  why,  Edward?  you  do  not  love  me!" 

"  Yes,  but  I  do  love  you,  and  1  intend  to  marry  you.  All  the 
world  knows  we  are  engaged,  and  I  do  not  choose  to  be  trifled 
with  thus.  This  passion  for  Roberts  will  soon  pass  away.  You 
only  feel  sorry  for  him  because  he  is  in  prison.  A  week  hence  you 
will  feel  and  think  differently.  I  will  give  you  a  week  to  decide, 
Evangeline,"  said  he  coldly,  as  he  arose  to  leave. 

"  Oh  !  Edward,  I  want  not  a  week — not  a  day.  I  am  decided 
now.  1  tell  you  I  cannot  marry  you  while  I  love  another !  You 
ought  not  to  wish  me  to  do  it!  It  would  only  be  to  render  us 
both  miserable  forever.  I  tell  you  again  I  cannot  marry  you, 
Edward  Lasley  !" 

"  You  shall  never  marry  Roberts,  then,  Evangeline  !"  he  said, 
while  his  face  kindled  under,  the  dark  workings  of  his  fierce  pas- 
sion. 

"Then  I'll  never  marry  I "  she  replied  determinedly. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  229 

Scowling  with  the  fury  of  a  fiend  upon  the  girl  he  professed  to 
love,  be  replied  in  tones  of  bitter  retaliation: 

"  So  let  it  be!"  He  paused  a  moment  for  a  reply;  but  with 
the  same  look  of  resolution,  Evangeline  sat  silently  gazing  upon 
him. 

"Do  we  part  forever,  Evangeline?"  he  asked,  as  he  read  the 
meaning  of  her  heart  on  her  fixed,  unmoved  face. 

"  Forever  !"  she  answered. 

"  Ah !  say  not  so.  There  is  a  future  for  me.  We  will  meet 
again,  Evangeline.  Then — then,  perhaps,  you  will  understand 
me!" 

As  he  finished  this  ominous  sentence  he  turned  from  her,  and 
passing,  out  through  the  hall,  left  the  house.  Evangeline's  heart 
stood  still  and  her  cheek  grew  pale  as  those  threatening  words 
rung  on  her  ear.  She  could  meet  the  enraged  man  with  boldness 
as  he  stood  before  her  with  his  words  of  sarcastic  reproach  and 
bitter  taunt,  but  she  shuddered  with  fear,  as  a  feeling  of  mysteri- 
ous dread  took  possession  of  her  bosom. 

"  What  can  he  mean?"  she  asked  herself,  as  she  revolved  his 
menacing  words  in  her  mind.  "What  does  he  intend  to  do? — 
Surely  hd  does  not  contemplate  being  revenged  on  Harry — and 
yet  what  else  can  it,  be  ?  His  words  were  so  dark  and  he  looked 
so  fierce  as  he  spoke  !  But  what  harm  can  he  do  him  ?  Harry  is 
in  prison  and  beyond  bis  reach.  But  be  is  a  Union  man,  or  pro- 
fesses to  be  one.  Would  he  use  this  power  against  him  ?  Ah  !  it 
must  be  that !  It  can  be  nothing  else.  But  what  can  he  do  ?" 
she  asked  herself.  "He  can  have  him  sent  to  Camp  Chase,  per- 
haps, and  kept  there?  Surely,  he  cannot  mean  to  take  his  life ; 
and  if  he  did,  how  could  he  accomplish  it  ?  He  could  not  shoot 
him — he  would  not  dare* this!  But,  perhaps,  he  could  hire  the 
guard  to  do  it.  Men  have  been  shot  down  in  that  prison  without 
provocation — one  merely  because  he  looked  out  of  the  window  and 
waved  a  handkerchief  at  some  girls  who  were  passing.  Ob !  if 
he  should  do  this,  how  horrid  it  would  be  !  '  You  shall  never 
marry  Roberts  !'  he  said.  He  must  mean  by  this  to  destroy  either 
Harry  or  me.  Fearful!  fearful!"  and  Evangeline  trembled  fear- 
fully as  she  sat  there  alone  on  the  sofa  in  the  silent  parlor. 

Long  she  pondered  the  last  words  of  Lasley — "  There  is  a  future 
for  me  ;  we  must  meet  again,  Evangeline.  Then — then,  perhaps, 
you  will  understand  me  !" 

"  Harry  shall  be  saved !"  she  said,  half  aloud  to  herself,  as  she 
rose  from  the  sofa  and  sought  her  own  room. 


?3"  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 


CHAPTER.  L. 


VISIT      TO      PH1SON, 


Under  the  auspices  of  a  Union  lady,  -a  friend  of.  her  aunt, 
Evangeline  obtained  permission  to  visit,  the  prison  where  the 
Southern  men  were  kept,  on  the  day  following  the  remarkable 
visit  of  Edward  Lasley. 

It  was  10  o'clock  in  the  morning.  Evangeline,  attired  in  a 
plain  street  suit  of  green,  with  a  hat  trimmed  in  black  velvet,  from 
which  hung  a  veil  of  green  that  fully  concealed  her  features,  and 
bearing  in  her  hand  a  basket  of  cakes  and  fruits,  with  a  beautiful 
bouquet,  set  out  with  Mrs.  Hanna  to  visit  the  prison  at  the  corner 
of  Green  and  Eifth  streets.  This  building  had  been  a  Medical 
College  before  our  peaceful  people  had  learned  war.  Immediately 
upon  the  outbreak  of  hostilities,  the  Abolitionists  of  Louisville, 
ready  to  do  the  bidding  of  their  dictator  at  Washington,  decided 
it  should  be  fitted  up  for  prisoners,  and  accordingly  men  were  en- 
gaged to  put  it  in  proper  condition  for  this  purpose.  The  whole 
building,  with  its  small  yard  fronting  on  Green  street,  was  rapidly 
enclosed  by  a  high  plank  fence,  and  barracks  were  erected  along 
the  west  side  for  the  accommodation  of  the  guard. 

it  was  a  novel  sight  to  the  people  of  Louisville  to  see  such  pre- 
parations in  thejr  midst.  But,  notwithstanding  the  opposition  of 
the  Southern  people,  who  believed  it  an  overthrow  of  all  constitu- 
tional right  to  imprison  men  for  opinion's  sake,  and  the  wonder  of 
Unionists  who  had  not  yet  grown  altogether  accustomed  to  the  at- 
tempt to  enslave  freemen,  the  work  went  rapidly  on  to  completion; 
and  the  citizens  saw  in  their  hitherto  free  city  a  large  building  set 
apart  for  the  incarceration  cf  men  who  dared  to  maintain  the  doc- 
trine that  the  people  of  a  sovereign  State  had  a  right  to  decide  on 
the  course  they,  as  a  free  and  independent  people,  should  pursue. 

As  Evangeline  pursued  her  way  beside  Mrs.  Hanna,  from  Broad- 
way down  Second  street  to  Green,  and  thence  to  the  prison,  she 
found  the  streets  thronged  with  men  discussing  the  startling  events 
of  the  day.  As  she  passed  the  Customhouse,  on  the  corner  of 
Third  and  Green,  and  slipped  in  to  ask  for  a  letter  for  herself 
and  aunt,  she  heard  a  gentleman  at  the  door  exclaim,  with  great 
emphasis  :  "  Yes,  Bragg  will  come ;  he  has  got  the  start  of  Buell, 
and  is  already  on  his  way  here,  arid  we  .have  no  preparation  to 
meet  him.  These  fortifications  they  are  erecting  are  mere  child's 
play — only  intended  to  deceive  the  people  into  a  false  idea  of  se- 
curity."    " 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN;  231 

She  started  as  the  language  fell  on  her  ear,  fearing  lest  some 
Southern  man,  in  the  gratification  he  felt,  had  so  far  forgotten  him- 
self as  to  utter  "  treasonable  sentiments."  She  looked  hurriedly 
round,  and  found  to  her  relief1  that  the  words  had  fallen  from  a 
known  Union'man  ;  of  course  there  was  no  treason  there. 

As  she  passed  out,  she  paused  a  moment  to  ask  Mr.  McAllister, 
the  speaker,  when  Gen.  Bragg  would  reach  Louisville. 

"  Be  here  in  a  few  days  'Vangeline  ;  no  help  for  it,  and  then  the 
wretches  will  drive  us  all  from  our  homes  and  burn  our  property." 

M  Oh,  I  hope  not,  Mr.  McAllister,"  she  answered,  pleasantly, 
"  Southerners  don't  do  such  things,  I  believe." 

"  Yes  they  do ;  greatest  outlaws  the  world  has  ever  seen — full 
of  revenge  and  the  devil." 

Evangeline  not  deeming  it  proper  to  make  any  further  remark 
to  the  excited  old  man,  bowed  and  hastened  to  overtake  Mrs. 
Hanna,  who  was  a  few  paces  in  advance. 

"What  I  do  must  be  done  quickly,"  she  said  to  herself,  as  she 
walked  rapidly  on.     "  A  few  days  delay,  and  all  is  lost." 

Overtaking  Mrs.  Hanna,  she  repeated  the  remark  of  the  old 
gentleman. 

"  What  do  you  think,  Mrs.  Hanna.  Is  it  your  opinion  the 
Southern  army  will  reach  Louisville  ?" 

"Never,  never,  Evangeline.  They  wouldn't  dare  to  attei.pt 
the  thing.  Don't  you  know  General  Nelson  is  fortifying  every 
day,  and  fresh  troops  are  arriving  every  hour.  Old  Mr.  McAllis- 
ter is  wild,  he  doesn't  know  what  he  is  talking  about — scared  to 
death,  I  suppose." 

"  What  am  I  to  believe  ?"  asked  Evangeline,  mentally.  "  One 
tells  me  Bragg  will  certainly  come.  The  next  moment  another 
says  it  is  impossible.  I  will  execute  my  plan,  any  how,  and  then 
I  shall   have  nothing  to  fear." 

The  two  females  reached  the  prison  gate,  and  were  about  to 
enter,  when  the  guard,  a  burly  Pennsylvania  Dutchman,  presented 
his  bayonet  across  the  entrance. 

•'  Where  is  your  pass  ?  You  cannot  go  in  without  a  permit." 
he  said  gruffly. 

Mrs.  Hanna  paused,vfelt  in  her  pocket,  and  produced  a  paper. 
The  man  turned  it  upside  down,  eyed  it  very  earnestly  for  a  few 
minutes,  wearing  all  the  while  a  look  of  great  wisdom,  and  then 
returned  it,  saying,  "  all  right,  pass  in." 

Mrs.  Hanna  smiled,  as  she  replaced  the  remnant  of  a  gas  bill 
in  her  pocket,  and  Evangeline,  who  had  caught  a  glimpse  of  it 
and  understood  what  it  was,  laughed  outright.  The  guard  looked 
amazed  and  somewhat  suspicious,  but  either  not  fully  understand- 
ing the  cause  of  the  ladies'  merriment,  or  perhaps  unwilling  to 
admit  his  ignorance,  allowed  them  to  proceed  without  further  in- 
terruption. At  the  door  they  encountered  another  armed  man,  who, 
bowing  politely,  asked  them  whom  they  wished  to  see.     They  r#« 


232  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

plied  they  desired  to  see  all  the  prisoners,  but  particularly  young 
Roberts. 

"  You  can  see  Roberts,  ladies,  and  any  other  prisoner  you  may 
wish,  if  you  will  but  name  them ;  but  you  cannot  be  allowed  to 
make  a  general  visit." 

"  We  will  see  Mr.  Roberts,  and  any  other  of  Morgan's  men  that 
that  you  may  have  here." 

The  soldier  called  to  one  of  the  attendants  of  the  prison,  and 
instructed  him  to  conduct  the  visitors  up  stairs  and  show  them  to 
young  Roberts. 

The  ladies  followed  the  old  man.  On  reaching  the  landing, 
they  found  themselves  in  the  presence,  of  several  men,  all  uni- 
formed. They  could  not  tell  whether  or  not  they  were  Southern- 
ers. Evangeline  thought  they  were,  and  eagerly  strained  her 
gaze  to  discover  young  Roberts.  The  search  was  fruitless.  Only 
strange  faces  peered  upon  her.  She  looked  round  for  her  conduc- 
tor— he  was  gone.  There  the  two  ladies  stood,  uncertain  what  to 
do,  wondering  if  amid  that  crowd  they  were  to  be  left  to  meet  the 
prisoner.  Evangeline  trembled  at  the  thought,  and  the  basket  she 
held  in  her  hand  manifested  her  perturbation. 

At  length,  after  a  painful  suspense,  the  old. man  returned. — 
Evangeline  looked  up  as  she  heard  his  voice.  Behind  him  was  a 
young  man  in  prison  garb.  She  thought  at  first  glance  it  was 
Harry,  and  was  about  to  step  forward  to  make  herself  known. — 
But  looking  again,  she  encountered  the  face  of  a  stranger,  a  hand- 
some man  of  about  twenty-five  years  of  age,  who  bowed  and 
moved  towards  them,  and  stood  a  moment  as  if  waiting  to  be  ad- 
dressed.    . 

"Walk  in  there,  ladies,"  said  the  conductor,  pointing  to  a  long 
room  filled  with  benches  that,  opened  on  the  landing. 

They  did  as  directed,  and  found  themselves  in  the  midst  of 
prisoners.  The  young  man  followed.  Entering  they  bowed. — 
Evangeline  knew  in  a  moment  that  those  before  her  were  Confed- 
erates, and  she  lifted  her  veil,  hoping  that  if  she  did  not  recognize 
Harry,  he  might  see  her  and  come  forward  to  her  relief. 

"We' wish  to  see  Harry  Roberts,  one  of  Morgan's  men,  who 
was  put  in  prison  a  few  days  since,"  saidfjftlrs.  Hanna,  turning  to 
the  young  gentleman  who  stood  beside  her. 

"  Excuse  me,  ladies,"  said  the  young  man,  bowing  politely,  "my 
name  is  Robertson,  and  I  was  told  some  ladies  wished  to  see  me. 
I'lJ  speak  with  the  guard,  and  have  Roberts  sent  in." 

"  And  so  some  ladies  do  wish  to  see  you,"  said  two  females,  step- 
ping forward  from  their  seats  and  confronting  the  prisoner.  He 
looke'd  at  them  steadily  for  a  moment. 

"Aunt  Jane  and  cousin  Flora!"  exclaimed  the  young  man,  sur- 
prised, at  the  same  time  grasping  their  extended  hands  with  all  the 
warmth  of  his  ardent  nature.  "  Why,  how  did  you  hear  I  was  in 
prison !" 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  233 

"Dr.  Heady,  of  our  neighborhood,  was  in  the  city  when  you 
were  brought  in,  and  saw  you  taken  from  the  cars.  He  recog- 
nized.you,  having  seen  you  when  you  were  last  on  a  visit  to  us. 
As  soon  as  we  heard  it,  we  determined  to  come  and  make  you  a 
visit;  but  your  uncle  James  was  taken  sick  the  very  day  we  had 
appointed  to  set  out,  and  has  been  so  indisposed  ever  since,  that, 
we  could  not  leave  him  until  yesterday." 

"And  how  is  uncle  James  now?"  '. 

"  Better ;  we  hope  he  will  soon  be  well  again.  He  sent  you  a 
great  deal  of  love,  as  did  all  the  children,  and  says,  '  don't  des- 
spair,  you  are  in  a  good  cause,'  "  she  added,  in  a  whisper,  as  she 
discovered  The  eye  of  a  Lincoln  soldier  fixed  upon  her.  The  man 
moved  forward  and  took  a  nearer  position.  Mrs.  Richey  under- 
stood the  meaning,  and  quickly  changed  the  conversation  to  an  in- 
quiry for  the  young  man's  health. 

"  Pretty  good,  aunt  Jane,  and  spirits  fine  ;  we  have  most  excel- 
lent company,  and  as  good  fare  as  rebels  deserve,  I  suppose." 

"  I  'am  glad  to  see  you  in  such  fine  spirits,  Samuel.  It  will  de- 
light your  uncle  James  to  know  you  bear  your  fate  so  heroically. 
He  has  been  greatly  distressed  since  he  heard  you  were  here.  You 
know  you  are  his  favorite  nephew." 

"  Tell  uncle  it  is  not  so  pleasant  as  meeting  the  enemy  on  the 
battle-field,  but  as  a  soldier  I  have,  made  up  my  mind  to  take 
whatever  chances  befall  me,  and  make  the  best  of  my  fate." 

"  How  long  do  you  expect  to  remain  here,  Samuel  ?" 

"  Oh,  I  suppose  we  shall  soon  be  sent  from  here  to  Camp  Chase, 
and  perhaps  we  shall  remain  there  until  the  war  ends.  Can't  tell; 
these  things  are  so  uncertain," 

Mrs.  Richey  looked  up  ;  the  guard  had  moved  back  to  allow  a 
young  Confederate  to  proceed  to  the  two  ladies  who  were  sitting 
beyond  her.  Seizing  the  opportune  moment,  she  leaned  forward 
as  if  to  pick  up  her  fallen  handkerchief.  "  Take  that,  Mr,  Richey 
sent  it.  Get  out  if  you,  can,  aod  come  to  our  house."  She  slipped 
a  roll  into  his  hands,  which  the  prisoner  immediately  placed  in  his 
pocket.    The  whole  movement  had  escaped  the  eye  of  the  guard. 

"Harry!" 

"  Evangeline!" 

It  was  all  the  two  lovers  could  say  as  their  eyes  met.  Mrs. 
Hanna  rose,  expecting  Evangeline  to  introduce  her.  But  the 
young  girl  sat  still,  overcome  by  her  emotion.  Her  face  was  crim- 
son, and  she  trembled  violently.  No  endeavor  to  be  calm  availed. 
•  Mrs.  Hanna  seeing  Evangeline  would  not  introduce  her,  intro- 
duced herself.  "  I  am  very  glad  to  see  you,  Mr.  Roberts,"  she 
said,  endeavoring  to  relieve  the  young  man's  embarrassment. — 
"Your  mother  and  I  were  schoolmates,  and  although  we  did  not 
meet  in  after  life,  I  have  always  remembered  our  girlish  associa- 
tion with  pleasure,  and  I  am  happy  to  make  your  acquaintance  for 
her  sake,  though  sad  to  see  you  in  this  place.''     ' 


234  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

At  the  mention  of  his  mother's  name  the  tears  started  to  his 
eyes.  Four  years  ago  she  had  been  laid  to  rest  beneath  the  green 
sod  in  the  family  burying-ground  in  the  country.  Harry  had  idol- 
ized her,  for  she  was  to  him  the  very  embodiment  of  all  goodness 
and  loveliness.  He  had  heard  but  the  day  before  that  his  father 
had  married  a  second  time,  and  this  thought  seemed  to  touch  his 
heart  the  mor3  deeply. 

"  You  are  comfortable  here,  Mr. Roberts, I  suppose?"  remarked 
Mrs.  Hanna,  desiring  to  turn  the  current  of  his  thoughts. 

"  As  well  situated  as  I  could  expect,  in  a  prison,  madam  ;  but  it 
can  scarcely  be  styled  comfortable.  However,  I  wish  not  to  com- 
plain.    Soldiers  must  take  the  chances  of  their  profession." 

"  This  is  a  sad  and  horrid  war,  Mr,  Roberts,  and  untold  suffer- 
ing must  yet  be  endured  before  it  ends." 

"  Yes,  madam,  war  is  the  most  fearful  scourge  that  can  be  sent 
on  a  people,  and  civil  war  is  of  all  wars  the  most  dreadful,  And 
it  will  become  more  and  more  so  the  longer  it  is  protracted." 

"  It  can  end  only  in  one  way,  Mrs.  Hanna." 

"And  what  is  that]"  . 

"  Acknowledge  the  independence  of  the  Confederacy  !" 

"  Oh,  that  will  never  be  done,  sir.  It  cannot  be  done,  for  it 
would  never  do  to  sever  this  great  and  glorious  Union." 

"  The  Union  is  dissolved  already,  Mrs.  Hanna,  and  force  of  arms 
will  never  re-unite  it.  But  it  will  not  do  for  me  to  discuss  this 
subject.  You  know  I' am  a  prisoner  in  the  hands  of  my  enemy — 
an  enemy  who  thinks  that  to  differ  with  him  is  a  crime  worthy  of 
death." 

"How  did  you  know  Evangeline,  that  I  was  here  1  I  thought 
you  had  not  heard  it." 

"  Mary  Lawrence  told  me,  Harry.  One  of  Col.  Morgan's  men 
told  her — young  Brent,  I  believe.  I  heard  it  the  morning  after 
you  were  arresred,  but  they  would  not  let  me  come  until  now." — 
She  spoke  very  low,  so  that  the  guard  who  stood  by  to  overhear 
their  conversation  might  not  catch  her  words. 

"  Did  Brent  escape  1" 

"Of  course  he  did,  or  he  would  be  here." 

"  Oh  !  yes  ;  he  left  that  night,  and  I  suppose  got  back  safely,  as 
we  have  heard  nothing  from  him  since." 

This  conversation  was  conducted  in  a  low  tone,  and  as  Harry 
had  moved  his  seat  beside  Evangeline,  Mrs.  Hanna  did  not  un- 
derstand it.  Observing  that  the  two  young  people  desired  to  in- 
terchange some  words  privately,  she  engaged  the  guard  by  re- 
marking : 

"  Rather  an  unpleasant  duty,  sir,  to  watch  here ;  but  it  is  a  duty 
that  some  one  must  discharge." 

"  Ob,  yes,  mum,  as  a  so!dier  I  have  to  obey  commands  ;  but  I 
would  a  great  deal  rather  be  in  the  field.  I  don't  like  the  confine- 
ment nor  the  business  of  keeping  men  in  prison.     But  these  are 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  235 

war  times,  madam,  and  the"  regular  order  of  things  is  entirely 
changed." 

"  Harry,"  said  Evangeline,  while  this  conversation  was  pend- 
ing, "you  must  get  out  of  this  prison.  Here  is  my  purse — 
hribe  the  guard  if  you  can  !"  As  she  said  this,  she  drew  out  of 
her  pocket  a  atrial  1  purse, filled  with  gold,  and  slipped  it  into  Har- 
ry's hand.  Scarcely  realizing  what  he  did,  so  surprised  was  he  at 
Evangeline's  words  and  act,  he  took  the  purse  and  hastily  put  it 
into  his  pocket, 

"In  this  boquet,  Harry,  is  a  note.  If  you  find  you  can  carry 
out  the  plan,  be  at  the  second  window  on  Third  street  Sunday 
evening,  at  4  o'clock,  and  give  the  signal  mentioned.  Be  plain, 
distinct,  so  that  I  can  understand  you.  I  will  attend  to  the  rest. 
Understand,  Harry  ?" 

He  nodded  assent. 

"Be  careful;  don't  betray  yourself.  You  will  be  shot  if  you 
do!" 

Harry  gazed  at  her  in  wonder.  He  had  always  known  that  she 
was  resolute  and  fond  of  daring  deeds,  yel  excitable  and  frequently 
overcome  by  her  strong  emotion.  To  behold  her  so  calm,  col- 
lected, plauning  his  escape  from  prison,  was  a  manifestation  so 
unexpected,  that  he  was  filled  with  a  tonishment. 

"Don't  look  so  surprised,  Harry;  the  guard  will  suspect  you." 

"  Here,  Harry,"  she  said  modestly,  as  she  saw  the  eye  of  the 
guard  fixed  upon  her,  "  is  a  boquet  of  flowers.  You  allow  the 
prisoner  to  receive  flowers,  *ir,  I  suppose,''  she  said,  looking  up  at 
the  man  with  one  of  her  sweetest  smiles.  "  Won't  you  have  some 
fruit,  sir?  '  and  she  extended  the  basket,  to  him,  while  she  handed 
the  flowers  to  Harry.  "  Those  apples  and  oranges  are  very  nice  ; 
do  take  some !" 

The  man,  bowing  politely,  reached   forward  and  took  an  apple. 

"  Have  an  orange,  sir  ?" 

"  No,  mum,  1  thank  you  ;  this  is  sufficient." 

"  Won't  you  have  an  orange,  Mrs.  Hanna  V 

The  lady  declined. 

"Well,  Harry,  J  am  sure  you  will  not  refuse  me." 
.    "Thank you!"  he  said. 

"This  young  gentleman  may  have  as  much  fruit  as  be  pleases, 
sir  !     Good  for  his  health." 

"  Oh,  yes,  mum;  we  do  not  deny  the  prisoners  any  little  thing 
to  eat  that  their  friends  bring  them." 

"  Well,  then,  Harry,  you  shall  have  it  all ;  take  the  basket." 

As  he  was  receiving  it,  she  leaned  forward  and  whispered,  "Take 
the  note  from  the  boquet;  it  might  fallout."  Then  turning  to 
the  guard,  she  asked,  in  order  to  distract  his  attention  : 

"  Do  you  admit  ladies  every  day,  sir  V 

"No,  mum;  only  on  Thursday  mornings. " 

"  And  can  any  one  come  in  then  who  desires  to 'I  1  have  never 
been  here  before,  and  do  not  understand  your  regulations  fully." 


236  ,  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

"  Any  one  who  has  a  permit  can  come ;  but  our  orders  are  strict, 
and  we  cannot  allow  any  one  who  has  not  a  pass." 

Mrs.  Hanna  looked  at  Evangeline  and  smiled. 

While  the  soldier  was  interesting  himself  to  instruct  Evange- 
line, Harry  had  extracted  the  note  from  the  boquet  and  thrust  it 
down  into  his  pocket  with  the  purse.  His  manner  was  nervous. 
Evangeline  observed  it.  Those  unacquainted  with  the  young  man 
did  not. 

Relieved  of  her  great  anxiety,  Evangeline  regained  her  natural 
vivacity,  and  chatted  with  Harry  and  the  guard  with  all  the  ease 
and  naivete  for  which  she  was  so  remarkable. 

Mrs.  Richey  and  Flora  rose  to  leave.  Evangeline  looked  up  as 
they  did  so.  Recognizing  the  young  girl,  she  advanced  to  meet 
her. 

"Why,  Flora !  when  did  you  get  to  the  city  ?  I  had  not  heard 
you  were  here.  Are  you  staying  at  your  aunt  Ludlow's,  and  will 
you  be  here  long  ?" 

Flora  answered  her  questions  and  then  introduced  Evangeline 
to  her  mother  and  cousin,  young  Robertson. 

Harry  Roberts  advanced  to  speak  with  her. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Roberts !  is  this  you?"  exclaimed  Flora.  "I  am 
surprised  to  see  you  here.  I  thought  you  were  with  Col.  Morgan, 
near  Lexington !" 

"  And  so  I  was,  Miss  Richey,  and  ought  to  be  there  now.  But, 
anxious  to  see  my  friends  in  Louisville,  I  yielded  to  my  desires  and 
returned  home,  and  in  an  evil  hour  I  was  betrayed  by  one  whom  I 
thought  was  a  friend;  and  now  I  am  heie  eh  route  for  Camp 
Chase.  You  know  the  '  best  laid  schemes  of  mice  and  men  gang 
aft  aglay,'  Miss  Flora.  What  can't  be  avoided  must  be  submitted 
to  ;•  and  as  it  is  much  a  part  of  a  soldier's  life  to  endure  hardships 
as  to  fight.  1  have  fought,  and  now  I  shall  bear  as  best  I  can 
whatever  is  imposed  upon  me." 

"That  is  true  philosophy,"  replied  the  young  girl,  her  face 
growing  animated  under  the  expression  of  such  sentiments.  "  No 
man  is  a  hero  without  this  element  of  character.  We  must  learn 
to  suffer  and  to  wait.  It  matters  but  little  where  we  are,  or  how 
situated,  if  we  but  serve  the  great  cause  of  right." 

The  guard  standing  nearest  her  scowled.  Mrs.  Richey  touched 
her  warningly  on  the  shoulder. 

"  Good  morning,  Mr.  Roberts.  I  hope  a  brighter  fate  awaits 
you." 

"  Evangeline,,  come  to  see  me ;  I  shall  be  in  the  city  but  a  few 
days  longer."  she  said,  turning  to  the  young  girl. 

"  If  you  will  be  in  this  afternoon  at  five,  Flora,  I  will  call  then." 

Bidding  farewell  to  the  prisoner,  and  bowing  to  Mrs.  Hanna,  Mrs. 
Richey  and  her  daughter  left  the  room. 

"  Your  half  hour  has  expired,  mum,"  said  the  soldier  to  Evange- 
line, who  was  about  to  reseat  herself  besides  Mrs.  Hanna. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  237 

"  Do  you  allow  us  only  half  an  hour  to  see  a  friend  V* 

"  Had  you  come  earlier  you  could  have  remained  longer,  but  our 
orders  are  to  have  no  company  for  the  prisoners  after  this  hour." 

"  We  will  come  earlier  next  Thursday,  Mrs.  Hanna.  It  seems 
to  me  we  have  been  here  but  a  short  time.  But  thefl,  all  is  so 
novel  to  me,  the  time  has  passed  quickly  by.  You  will  allow  me 
to  come  in  next  visiting  day,  will  you  not,  sir?"  she  said,  turning 
and  addressing  the  guard.  "  I  shall  wish  to  visit  my  cousin  as 
often  as  possible  before  he  goes  to  Camp  Chase." 

"Oh  !  certainly,  mum;  if  you  have  a  permit,  you  can  come  in.  I 
may  not  be  here  at  all  then  ;  I  am  expecting  every  day  to  be  called 
out  to  the  field.  You  know  the  rebels  are  marching  upon  the  city, 
and  we  shall  have  to  turn  out  to  defend  it." 

"  Why  do  you  think  Gen.  Bragg  is  coming  to  Louisville  !  He 
will  not  be  rash  enough  for  that,  will  he  ?"  asked  Evangeline. 

"  He'll  come  if  he  can,  mum.  It  is  our  business  to  prevent  him. 
I  scarcely  think  he  will  get  here  ;  but  these  rebels  are  a  determin- 
ed people,  and  no  one  can  tell  what  they  1  attempt." 

"  Very  true,"  responded  Mrs.  Hanna,  "  but  I  do  not  think  Bragg 
will  ever  reach  Louisville.  There  are  too  many  men  to  oppose 
him." 

"Good-bye,  cousin  Harry,"  said  Evangeline,  gaily.  "  Keep  up 
your  spirits — 'tis  as  well  to' be  merry  as  sad.  You  know  what  un- 
cle always  says,"  and  she  bent  forward  and  whispered,  "  .Remem- 
ber Sunday  evening,  before  six  o'clock — get  out  if  possible,  or 
you'll  be  sent  to  Camp  Chase.  Pretty  good  logic,  isn't  it,  Harry  ?" 
she  said  aloud. 

"  Oh,  very  fine,  and  it  shall  be  my  motto  for  the  future.  I  shall, 
undoubtedly  act  upon  it,  let  whatever  will  betide  me,  rest  assured 
of  that." 

Mrs.  Hanna  expressed  her  hope  that  the  young  man's  imprison- 
ment might  not  be  long,  but  that  an  exchange  would  soon  be  ef- 
fected in  his  behalf,  adding,  "  I  have  a  son  in  the  Uuion  army,  Mr. 
Roberts,  and,  as  a  mother,  I  can  feel  for  you.  Good  morning,  sir, 
I  will  call  again  and  see  you,  and  if  there  is  any  thing  you  desire,  I 
will  bear  the  request  to  your  father." 

"  Much  obliged  to  you,  madam.  The  Superintendent,  Captain 
Dillard,  kindly  forwarded  a  note  for  me  to  Pa,  yesterday,  and  al- 
though I  have  not  yet  had  an  answer,  I  know  my  requests  will  be 
attended  to." 

.  Mrs.  Hanna  and  Evangeline,  accompanied  by  the  guard,  who 
seemed  to  be  quite  phrased  with  the  young  girl's  kind  and  fascina- 
ting manner,  passed  out  into  the  entry.  On  the  landing,  they  en- 
countered Mr.  Roberts,  Harry's  father,  with  Captain  Dillard,  the 
Prison  Superintendent,  and  followed  by  a  servant  boy  bearing  a 
basket  of  clothing,  which  showed  from  its  tumbled  appearance  that 
it  had  been  very  unceremoniously  examined  by  the  sentinel.  Evan- 
geline bowed  to  Mr.  Roberts  and  passed  on. 


238  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

Gaining  the  street,  she  bade  Mrs.  Hanna  good  morning,  thank- 
ing her  for  her  kind  escort,  and  engaging  to  accompany  her  to  the 
prison  on  the" following  Thursday  morning,  then  proceeded  down 
Green  street,  past  the  hospital,  turned  into  Centre  and  pursued 
her  way  to  Market  street.  She  walked  up  Market  until  she  reach- 
ed the  Brook  street  market-house..  Discovering  here  a  Jew  fur- 
nishing store,  she  entered  and  examined  several  suits  of  dark  cloth- 
ing. Finding  one  that  answered  her  purpose,  she  drew  forth  a  roll 
of  Kentucky  bills  and  paid  for  it,  ordering  the  merchant  to  send  it 
to  Mr.  Ludlow's,  at  five  o'elock  that  evening  precisely,  and  turned 
to  leave. 

"  To  whom  must  I  direct  it '?" 

"  Miss  Flora  Richey,"  she  replied  promptly.  "  You  know  Mr. 
Ludlow's  residence,  do  you?  near  the  corner  of  Chestnut  and 
Sixth,  north  side." 

The  man  made  a  memorandum  and  placed  it  on  the  suit,  which 
he  had  laid  aside  on  the  shelf. 

On  her  return  home,  Evangeline  met  Mary  Lawrence. 

"  I  have  just  called  to  see  you,  Evangeline,  and  the  girl  told  me 
you  had  gone  to  the  prison  to  see  Harry  Roberts.  Is  that  true  ? 
You  haven't  been  there,  have  you1?  What  will  Ed.  Lasley  say, 
when  he  hears  you  are  visiting  your  old  sweetheart  in  prison  1 
Won't  it  arouse  his  jealousy  a  little  1  You  know  he  is  a  Union 
man,  and  it  might  be  the  means  of  embittering  his  feelings." 

"  Oh.  Mr.  Lasley  must  look  out  for  himself.  You  know  it  is  my 
duty — so  Aunt  has  always  taught  me — to  visit  the  sick  and  those 
that  are  in  prison." 

Her  manner  was  so  full  of  meaning  that  her  young  friend  could 
fiot  conceal  her  surprise. 

"  Come,  Mary,  go  back  home  with  me,  and  I  will  tell  you  all. 
You  know  I  was  engaged  to  Lasley,  and  asked  you  to  attend 
me  V 

"  Was  engaged,  Evangeline  1  What  do  you  mean  1  You  have 
not  broken  your  engagement,  have  you  ]  He  is  in  town  now. 
Took  dinner  with  Mr.  Spalding  yesterday  at  Mr.  R's.  I  was 
present.  He  did  not  act  like  a.  rejected  lover.  Was  gayer  and 
more  animated  than  when  I  met  him  before.  Have  you  seen  him 
since  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  saw  him  last  evening,  and  for  the  last  time,  Mary." 

"  Why,  Evangeline,  do  explain  yourself.  Surely  you  are  try- 
ing to  hoax  me.  For  the  last  time  ?  You  havn't  discarded  him, 
have  you  1" 

"  Hush,  Mary,  yonder  he  comes  now.  I  do  not.  wish  to  meet 
him  again.  Look  !  I  do  believe  he  reels.  Come,  quick,  quick, 
into  this  store,  and  I'll  shut  the  door  so  that  he  can't  see  us." 

The  two  girls  stepped  in  to  Mrs.  Le  Compte's  fancy  store,  on 
Fourth  street,  and  immediately  closed  the  door.  Mrs.  Le  Compte 
looked  up  from  behind  her  counter  rather  surprised. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  239 

"  What's  the  matter,  Miss  Evangeline,  with  you  snd  Miss  Law- 
rence this  morning  J"  asked  the  shopkeeper,  looking  out  from  un- 
der her  nicely  plaited  French  cap -border. 

•«  A  drunken  man,  Mrs.  Le  Compte,  and  I  am  so  afraid  of  drunk- 
en men,"  and  the  young  girl  held  tightly  to  the  door  knob,  at  the 
same  time  peering  curiously  out  into  the  street,  through  the  glass 
door. 

Just  then  young  Lasley,  leaning  on  the  arm  of  a  young  man 
whom  neither  of  the  girls  recognized,  passed.  His  face  was 
flushed,  his  eyes  red,  his  hat  slouched— This  whole  manner  evi- 
denced his  condition.  It  was  with  difficulty  his  friend  could  keep 
him  steady.  He  was  talking  in  an  earnest  tone;  and  Evangeline 
fancied  she  heard  him  sav,  "  And  I  will  be  revenged  Nick,  see  if 
I  ain't." 

The  two  young  girls  looked  at  each  other  in  mute  wonder. 

11  What  was  that  he  said,  Mary  ;  did  you  hear  him  V  whispered 
Evangelinu. 

"  Something  about  being  avenged,  I  believe  it  was.  I  could  not 
hear  distinctly." 

"  I  thought  so,  Mary.  Ah,  I  know  what  he  means.  He  is 
threatening  Harry.  I  will  tell  you  all  when  I  get  home.  Look 
out,  Mary,  see  if  they  have  turned  the  corner  of  Market." 

"They  have  turned  but  are  walking  out  towards  Main  street." 

"  We  can  go  then.  I  didn't  know  but  what,  be  had  recognized 
me,  and  would  wait  until  we  came  out." 

The  two  girls  left  and  pursued  their  way  rapidly  towards  Broad- 
way. Reaching  the  house  of  her  aunt,  Evangeline  rang  the  bell, 
and  ordering  some  lemonade,  conducted  Mary  up  stairs  to  her  own 
room. 

Closing  the  door,  and  securing  it  so  that  there  might  be  no  in- 
trusion, the  two  girls  seated  themselves  on  the  sofa,  and  Evange- 
line told  Mary  all  that  had  occurred  the  evening  before  with  young 
Lasley  and  of  his  threat  that  she  should  never  marry  Harry 
Roberts. 

"  I  do  not  know,  Mary,  whether  the  threat  was  against  me  or 
Harry.  He  may  take  my  life  if  an  opportunity  should  offer.  I 
have  always  heard  that  he  possessed  a  violent  temper,  and  when 
once  excited  he  is  desperate.  But  I  never  realized  how  violent 
his  temper  was  until  I  saw  him  last  evening.  Why,  I  tell  you, 
he  acted  the  madman.  If  I  did  not  love  Harry  Roberts,  I  would 
never  marry  him  now.,    I  would  be  afraid  to  do  it." 

"  Well,  Evangeline,  this  is  all  very  strange  to  me,  wholly  unex- 
pected. When  I  met  you  this  morning,  I  supposed  you  had  been 
out  making  preparation  for  your  wedding.  You  know  everybody 
believes  it  is  to  take  place  on  the  sixteenth  of  next  month.  I  have 
heard  it  half  a  dozen  of  limes  since  I  came  this  morning.  Does 
your  aunt^know  your  decision  ?" 

"  No  one  but  yourself  and  Ed.  Lasley,  and  he  doesn't  believe  it 


240  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

He  said,  among  the  last  things  before  he  left,  that  he  would  give 
ine  one  week  to  decide.  I  fear  to  tell  my  aunt.  This  is  the  only 
dread  I  have  on  my  mind.  If  she  but  knew  it  and  was  reconciled 
to  it,  I  Would  be  so  relieved.  But  my  aunt,  Mary,  is  so  anxious 
that  I  should  marry  Ed.  Lasley.  He  is  rich,  you  know,  and  an 
only  child,  and  will  doubtless  be  the  heir  to  his  old  maiden  aunt's 
fortune.  And  my  aunt  wishes  me  make  what  she  calls  "  a  hand- 
some establishment"  when  I  marry.  She  never  favored  Harry 
Roberts,  and  now  that  he  is  a  rebel,  she  would  be  more  opposed 
to  it  than  ever.  Oh,  I  dread  to  tell  her,  and  yet  I  must  do  it.  I 
will  never  marry  Lasley.  I  love  Harry,  have  always  loved  him, 
and  if  he  ever  gets  out  of  prison,  I  will  go  the  ends  of  the  earth 
to  marry  him.  He  is  brave,  noble,  honorable,  Mary.  One  that  I 
can  love,  if  we  had  to  live  in  a  cottage.  Wealth  does  not  bring 
happiness,  Mary.  Look  at  aunt  Cecilia.  What  is  there  on  earth 
that  she  desire*,  that  she  does  not  have,  and  yet  where  will  you 
find  a  more  wretched  woman.  Her  fashionable  friends  think  she 
is  blessed  beyond  most  human  beings,  and  no  doubt  manyof  them 
envy  her  her  positiou.  But  could  they  lift  the  curtain  and  see  be- 
hind the  scenes,  bow  differently  would,  they  feel  and  judge." 

"Your  views  are  correct,  Evangeline,  and  you  talk  quite  like  a 
philosopher.  But  have  you  considered  this  matter  well.  Do  you 
know  all  it  involves  V 

"  I  have  considered  it  this  far,  Mary :  I  love  Harry  and  I  do 
not  love  Lasley.  I  thought  I  did,  but  it  was  mere  fancy.  As  soon 
as  I  heard  Harry  was  in  prison,  I  felt  I  should  die  if  I  did  not  get 
to  see  him,  and  1  have  walked  by  that  prison  a  hundred  times  in  the 
last  two  days,  hoping  1  might  catch  a  glimpse  of  his  form.  I  see 
that  wealth  does  not  purchase  happiness,  and  I  choose  the  latter. 
And  beside,  Harry  will  have  a  maintenance,  and  a  handsome  one, 
too,  if  this  war  leaves  the  Southern  people  with  anything,  and  if 
it  does  not,  why  I  will  love  him  still,  and  we  will  live  in  poverty." 

"  You  are  decided  then,  Evangeline  ?" 

"  I  am,  Mary." 

"  But  do  you  not  think  it  may  be  sympathy  for  Harry,  rather 
than  love  that  has  decided  you  thus?  may  you  not  change  your 
views  if  he  should  be  removed  from  you  again." 

"  Oh!  but  I  do  not  intend  he  shall  be  removed,  Mary,  unless  they 
take  him  to  Camp  Chase.  I  am  afraid  to  tell  you  what  I  have  de- 
cided to  do.  I  know  you  will  think  it  so  rash,  so  wild.  But, 
•Mary,  you  know  I  have  but  few  in  this  world  to. love  me  ;  no  one 
loves  me  as  Harry  does.  Aunt  Cecilia  admires  me  because  I  afford 
her  pleasure  and  draw  around  her  young  and  gay  society,  of  which 
she  is  very  fond  ;  and  then  you  know  she  has  no  child  of  her  own 
to  bestow  her  caresses  upon.  This  is  the  extent  of  her  affection 
for  me.  But  Harry  would  lay  down  his  life  for  me,  Mary  ;  he  is 
my  best,  my  truest  friend.  Why  should  I  not  cling  to  him,  even 
if  I  yield  up  every  thing  to  do  it?    Will  you  betray  me  if  I  trust 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  241 

you  1  I  have  always  told  you  every  secret  of  my  heart,  hut  this  is 
one  more  momentous  than  all  others.  Will  yoo  promise  to  hide  it 
away  in  your  own  bosom  and  never  to  speak  of  it  to  any  one  .'" 

"  Have  I  ever  forgotten  my  trust,  Evangeline  ?" 

Just  then  the  servant  knocked  at  the  door  with  a  waiter  of  ice 
cream  and  cakes. 

Evangeline  arose  to  open  the  door. 

"  No  lemons,  Miss  Vangy,  and  Miss  Cilia  told  me  to  bring  you 
some  cream  and  cakes.'' 

"  Very  well,  Emily  ;  bring  it  in  and  put  it  on  the  stand,  and  tell 
aunt  I  am  much  obliged  to  her.  You  must  not  come  again  until  I 
ring  for  you." 

The  girl  passed  out  and  closed  the  door.  Evangeline,  throwing 
off  her  hat  and  taking  Mary's,  resumed  her  scat  beside  her  friend 
on  the  sofa. 

"  1  have  decided  to  do  this,  Mary — first,  toeffect  Harry's  escape ; 
and  then,  if  he  has  to  leave  Kentucky,  to  go  with  him." 

"  But,  Evangeline,  how  are  you  so  accomplish  these  two  hazard- 
ous undertakings  !  You  cannot  get  Harry  out  of  prison  ;  and  if 
you  did,  how  will  you  get  through  to  the  Confederate  lines  ?" 

"  Mary,  my  belief  is  that  anything  can  be  accomplished,  if  you 
only  determine  it  shall  be'done.  These  arc  times  when  the  very 
foundations  of  society  are  moved,  and  what  would  be  regarded 
under  ordinary  circumstances  as  insanity,  will  pass  current  now 
for  heroism.  Many  females  in  every  age  have  dared  everything 
for  their  lover's  sake ;  why  may  not  I  do  the  same  1  If  I  can  once 
get  within  the  Confederate  limits  1  shall  have  nothing  to  fear." 

"  But  how  is  Harry  to  escape?" 

"  Oh  !  I  don't  know  that  he  will,  Mary  ;  that  is  yet.  to  be  tested. 
His  attempt  may  prove  successful;  it.  may  not.  But  you  know 
several  have  escaped  from  that  as  well  as  from  other  prisons.  I  do 
not  see  why  he  cannot  do  so  too.  He  has  promised  me  he  will 
try.' 

"  You  saw  him  then  this  morning  and  mentioned  it  to  him  ?    How 
did  you  find  an  opportunity  I     I  have  heard  that  all  visitors  are  so 
closely  watched  by  a  guard  stationed  in  the  room  for  that  purpose 
that  no  private  conversation  at  all  can  pass  between  them  and* 
their  friends." 

"  0  !  I  whispered  to  Harry,  who  sat  beside  me,  while  the  guard 
was  talking  to  Mrs.  Hanna.  He  looked  suspiciously  upon  me  once 
or  twice,  but  I  paid  no  attention  to  it.  Moreover,  I  carried  Hary 
a  boquet  of  flowers  that  had  a  note  concealed  in  it,  proposing  a 
plan  of  my  own,  and  this  I  gave  him  and  in  a  few  words  explained 
the  outline,  so  that  when  he  had  read  it  he  would  understand  what 
I  meant." 

"Why,  Evangeline,  you  astonish  me  r  You  are  really  a  hero- 
ine.    Who  could  have  thought  that  you — 'always  so  thoughtless^ 

16 


•49  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

so  gay — would  have  ventured  upon  an  experiment  so  full  of  dan- 
ger and  requiring  so  much  thought  and  courage?" 

"  Ah,  Mary,  love  is  a  powerful  incentive — a  great  teacher." 

"  And  did  you  consult  any  one,  Evangeline  ?" 

"  No  one,  Mary ;  I  have  told  no  one  but  Harry  and  you.  It 
must  be  kept  very  secret,  or  the  whole  thing  may  fail  and  Harry's 
life  be  the  forfeit." 

Mary  sat  a  few  moments  absorbed  in  deep  thought.  Two  or 
three  times  she  looked  at  Evangeline  as  if  she  wished  to  tell  her 
something  she  dared  not  communicate,  and  then  lowering  her  eyes 
relapsed  into  thought  again. 

"  Evangeline,"  she  said  at  length,  looking  up  through  her  curls, 
"you  have  confided  in  me  ;  I  will  confide  in  you.  I  need  not  ask 
you  to  keep  faithfully  what  I  tell  you  from  the  ears  of  every  human 
being.  I  know  that  under  the  present  circumstances  you  could 
not  divulge  it.  You  know,  Evangeline,  that,  like  you,  I  am  pretty 
much  alone  in  the  world.  All  my  relations,  save  my  father  and 
some  cousins,  are  in  the  South  ;  and  Charley  R.  is  there,  too, 
Evangeline — they  left  him  sick  in  Tennessee.  My  father  has  gone 
though  to  Lexington,  and  I  am  alone ! — alone ! 

"Has  your  father  gone,  Mary  ?  How  did  he  get  through,  and 
when  did  he  leave  ?     I  had  not  heard  a  word  of  his  going." 

"  Of  course  it  was  best  to  keep  it  secret.  He  has  been  gone  a 
week,  and  as  1  have  heard  nothing  from  him,  I  am  led  to  hope  that 
he  has  reached  Lexington  safely.  He  went  from  here  in  a  car- 
riage to  a  friend's,  six  miles  out  in  the  country  ;  from  there  he  pro- 
posed to  get  forward  as  best  he  could.  Did  not  know  but  that  he 
would  have  to  walk  most  of  the  way." 

Mary  paused  as  if  uncertain  whether  to  proceed. 

"  And  do  you  propose  to  follow  your  father  in  the  event  the  Con- 
federates do  not  come  to  Louisville  ?"  asked  Evangeline,  under- 
standing the  cause  of  her  hesitation. 

"Yes,  Evangeline,  this  is  my  determination.  I  am  now  waiting 
to  see  what  will  be  the  issue  of  Gen.  Bragg's  movements  as  re- 
gards this  city,  and  also  the  permanent  occupation  of  the  State. 
This  is  all  that  keeps  me  here  now.  Pa  said  he  would  send  for 
me  just  as  soon  as  it  was  decided  what  the  Confederates  would  do; 
but  I  shall  not  wait  for  him  to  do  this  if  Gen.  Bragg  passes  into 
the  interior  of  the  State.  If  he  does  not  come  and  take  me  I  will 
immediately  make  my  way  through,  lest  I  should  be  too  late." 

"  Was  Charley  very  sick,  Mary,  and  how  did  you  know  it  ?  and 
where  is  your  brother?     You,  of  course,  have  not  seen  him  yet?" 

"No ;  John  is  with  Col.  Duke  at  Lexington.  Young  Brent, 
who  came  to  Louisville,  left  him  the  very  night  Harry  Roberts  was 
arrested  and  put  in  prison.  He  brought  me  a  letter  from  Charley, 
and  came  all  the  way  out  to  Mr.  R.'s,  where  I  was  spending  a  few 
days,  to  deliver  it  to  me." 

"  And  bow  was  Charley  when  Brent  left  Mm  1" 


'  OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  243 

'•  Quite  sick  ;  bad  typhoid  fever,  but  his  physician  did  not  con- 
sider his  case  dangerous.  He  was  in  Tennessee,  not  far  from 
Knoxville,  in  a  private  house,  where  the  family  would  take  the 
tenderest  care  of  him.  The  physician  boarded  in  the  house,  so 
that  he  will  need  for  nothing  that  kindness  and  medical  skill  can 
afford.  But,  oh !  Evangeline,  you  cannot  tell  how  miserable  I 
•am  ;  I  fancy  all  the  time  he  is  dead  ;  dream  at  night  of  his  suf 
ferings  and  death  !  It  is  horrible,  this  agonizing  suspense.  I  feel 
at  times  I  shall  go  mad.  And  I  cannot  hear  from  him.  It  will 
be  weeks — perhaps  months — before  I  know  whether  he  is  dead  or 
living." 

"  Oh,  the  horrors  of  this  war,  Mary !  what  tongue  can  describe 
them?  I  shudder  when  I  think  of  the  suffering  we  have  yet,  to 
endure.  Surely,  a  just  God  will  punish  these  Northern  fanatics  for 
the  misery  and  death  they  are  spreading  over  the  land!  Yes,  a 
day  of  retribution  must  come  when  they  shall  be  made  to  feel  the 
curse  of  their  own  evil  doings.  I  sometimes  think  I  could  rejoice 
if  the  earth  would  open  and  swallow  them  up,  as  it  did  those  peo- 
ple of  old  that  Mr.  Young  preached  about  two  or  three  Sabbaths 
ago.  But,  Mary,  if  you  have  determined  to  go  to  your  father,  why 
cannot  we  go  together  ?" 

•'  Oh  !  I  would  he  so  glad  of  your  company,  Evangeline,  and  we 
will  go  together  if  it  is  possible.  But  will  you  leave  Kentucky  to 
the  Confederates  if  Harry  is  sent  to  Camp  Chase  ? ' 

"No,  Mary ;  if  he  should  fail  to  escape  and  be  kept  here,  or  be 
forwarded  to  any  other  Northern  prison,  I  would  remain  here. — ■ 
You  know  I  could  but  be  miserable  in  the  Confederacy  where  I 
should  never  hear  from  him.  There  is  nothing  to  take  me  South 
but  Harry."  * 

"How  soon  will  you — can  you: — decide,  Evangeline?" 

"In  a  few-days,  Mary.  T  can  let  you  know  on  Monday  morn- 
ing.     You  will  not  leave  before  then,  will  you  V 

"Oh,  no  !  Gen.  Bragg  could  not  get  here  before  that  time.  My 
going  depends  on  his  movements.  I  shall  see  you  before  Monday. 
1  am  coming  to  town  again  Saturday  evening  to  stay  all  night ; 
call  and  see  me  at  my  boarding  house." 

"  Oh,  come  and  stay  with  me.  Mary.  Do  not  think  of  going  to 
your  room — so  lonely,  so  cheerless,  it  must  be  now  your  father  is 
gone." 

"  Thank  you,  Evangie ;  I  shall  be  compelled  to  remain  at  home 
to  make  some  preparations  that  will  be  necessary  if  I  leave." 

"Then  stay  with  me  to-day,  Mary." 

"  Cannot,  to-day.  I  came  in  with  Lu  and  Mrs.  Spalding,  and 
shall  have  to  return  with  .them.  They  leave  at  two  ;  it  is  now 
half-past  one,"  she  said,  looking  at  her  watch.  "  We  will  meet  at 
church — but  you  come  to  see  me  on  Saturday." 

"  Very  well ;  I'll  do  so." 

Throwing  on  her  hat,  Mary  hastened  to  her  friends  at  the  ap- 


244  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

pointed  place  of  meeting,  and  they  had  not  yet  arrived.  Stepping 
into  a  store  for  a  few  moments  to  buy  a  mourning  collar,  she  heard 
one  of  the  clerks  remark  to  an  elderly  gentleman,  who  stood  in 
front  of  the  counter,  examining  some  cassimere,  and  whose  face 
was  turned  from  her  so  that  she  could  not  see  it : 

"  Will  they  not  send  our  prisoners  across  the  river  before  Bragg 
can  get  here  ?" 

She  did  not  hear  the  gentleman's  reply  distinctly.     The  words, 
"  Harry,  haste,  and  pantaloons,"  met  her  ear,  and  she  quickly  con- 
cluded that  it  must  be  Mr.  Roberts  who  was  anxious  to  get  suita- 
•  ble  clothing  prepared  for  his  son  before  he  should  be  sent  to  Gamp 
Chase. 

Ordering  one  pair  of  pantaloons  cut  off  and  trimmed,  the  old 
gentleman  then  asked  for  some  pocket  handkerchiefs.  In  turning 
to  look  after  the  clerk,  who  proceeded  to  the  front  of  the  store, 
Mary  caught  a  glance  of  his  features.  It  was  as  she  had  sup- 
posed, Harry's  father.  Ab,  how  sad  was  that  usually  mild,  gen- 
ial face !  What  an  expression  of  sorrow  haunted  the  deep  grey 
eyes  and  rested  around  the  mouth  ! 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Roberts  ?"  said  Mary,  as  cheerfully  as 
she  could,  advancing  towards  him  and  offering  her  hand. 

He  looked  at  her  a  moment  intently. 

"  Why,  I  did  not  recognize  you  at  first,  Mary.  How  do  you 
do?  You  look  changed,  my  child,  in  your  mourning  dress.  How 
is  your  father?  I  have  not  seen  him  for  several  days.  I  used  to 
meet  him  almost  daily.  I  thought,  perhaps,  he  had  gone  from 
the  city." 

"He  has,  Mr.  Roberts,"  replied  Mary,  lowering  her  voice,  "  Pa 
left  several  days  since  to  join  the  Confederates  at  Lexington  " 

"  He  is  not  going  into  the  army,  child,  an  old  man  as  he  is!" 
exclaimed  Mr.  Roberts,  in  astonishment. 

"No,  sir ;  but  he  desires,  in  the  event  the  Confederates  have  to 
leave  Kentucky,  to  go  out  with  them,  and  be  felt  the  surest  way 
to  secure  his  object  was  to  get  into  their  lines  while  the  army  was 
stationary." 

"  Ah,  I  wish  I  could  go,  Mary.  But.  they  have  got  poor  Harry 
here  in  prison,  and  I  could  not  leave  him.  Too  bad  that  he  should 
have  run  so  much  risk  to  see  us  and  be  caught.  We  did  not  get 
to  sec  him  before  he  was  arrested.  He  had  been  in  town  but  a 
half  hour  when  an  old  schoolmate  of  his,  a  Union  spy,  met  him 
and  recognized  him,  and  had  him  immediately  put  in  prison." 

"And  haven't  you  seen  him  at  all,  Mr.  Roberts  ?" 

"  Yes,  this  morning,  for  a  short  time,  just  long  enough  to  ascer- 
tain what  he  needs  to  make  him  comfortable.  He  left  all  his 
clothes  at  Lexington,  putting  on  the  worst  he  had  to  avoid  detec- 
tion. I  am  out  trying  to  get  him  clothing  ready  before  he  is  sent 
to  Camp  Chase." 

<•  Have  they  decided  to  send  our  men  there  V 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  245 

""  I  don't  know  that  they  have  ;  but  of  course  they  will  do  it  if 
there  is  any  certain  promise  that  Bragg  will  get  here.  I  would 
not  be  surprised  if  they  were  ordered  off  to-morrow  morning." 

Mary's  heart  beat  quickly  as  she  listened  to  these  words  "  Poor 
Evangeline — poor  Harry  !"  she  said  to  herself,  "  Wouldn't  it  be 
too  dreadful  if  they  should  send  him  away  !  Oh,  poor  girl,  her 
heart  would  break,  she  is  so  sanguine  now  of  his  escape.  I  wish 
I  could  go  and  tell  her  what,  I  have  heard.  But,  then,  what  good 
would  result  from  it  ?  She  could  not  communicate  with  Harry, 
even  if  she  knew  it,  and  the  dread  would  only  be  a  source  of 
misery." 

"  Have  you  been  long  waiting,  Mary  \"  said  Mrs.  Spalding,  en- 
tering the  store  and  laying  her  hand  on  her  shoulder.  "Why, 
how  do  you  do,  Mr.  Roberts !  I  did  not  observe  it  was  you.  The 
room  is  so  dark  after  coming  out  of  the  bright  sunshine.  And 
how  is  Harry  ?     I  suppose  you  have  seen  him." 

"  He  is  well  and  in  fine  spirits,  poor  fellow.  He  bears  h!s  im- 
prisonment like  a  hero.  Where  is  Charley  1  I  did  not  ask  for 
John,  Mary ;  I  suppose  they  are  both  with  Morgan  at  Lexington?" 

".Charley  was  left  very  sick  in  Tennessee,  Mr.  Roberts.  Was 
wholly  unable  to  come  with  his  command  into  Kentucky.  Had 
typhoid  fever." 

"Indeed,  I  am  sorry  to  hear  it.  And  did  John  stay  with  him  ? 
I  kuow  they  have  always  been  great  friends  from  their  boyhood." 

"No,  Mr.  Roberts,  my  brother  came  into  Kentucky  with  Col. 
Morgan,  and  is  now  near  Lexington.  Pa  expected  to  meet  him  as 
soon  as  he  reached  there." 

"  Colonel  Morgan,  with  a  portion  of  his  command,  have  been 
sent  out  to  intercept  General  Morgan's  retreat  >Jom  Cumberland 
Gap,  Harry  told  me.     Is  your  brother  in  that  e^reidition,  Mary  V 

"  Indeed,  I  do  not  know,  sir.  Mr.  Brent,  one  •«.  Morgan's  men, 
who  was  in  Louisville  a  few  days  ago,  told  me  that  John  was  with 
Colonel  Duke,  somewhere  in  the  viciDity  of  Lexington,  and  was 
well.  This  is  the  only  intelligence  we  -have  had  from  him  since 
the  Confederates  entered  the  State." 

"  Mr.  Spaldiug  is  waiting  for  us  at  the  door,  Mary." 

The  two  bade  Mr.  Roberts  good-bye,  and  seating  themselves  in 
the  carriage,  drove  out  into  the  country. 


246  EAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 


CHAPTER  LI. 


Mary  had  scarcely  left  Evangeline's  room  before  "her  aunt  sent 
up  Emily  fo  tell  her  young  mistress  to  come  tq  her  room  for  a  few 
minutes,  as  she  wished  to  see  her. 

"  What  does  aunt  Cecilia  want  with  me,  Emily  V 

"  Indeed  I  don't  know,  Miss  'Vangy.  She  told  me  to  make 
haste;  had  sumtiiin'  of  importance  to  tell  you." 

Evangeline  trembled  from  head  to  foot.  Her  heart  foreboded 
evil.  Smoothing  her  hair  and  taking  off  her  basque,  she  descended 
the  stairway  and  sought  her  aunt's  room. 

"Evangeline,"  said  Mrs.  Terrant,  "  Everything  is  in  such  con- 
fusion here,  I  have  decided  to  go  to  Indianapolis  for  a  few  dajis, 
and  shall  leave  this  evening  on  the  cars.  You  must  get  ready  im- 
mediately, Emily  will  pack  your  trunks  while  you  go  out  with 
me  to  do  a  little  shopping.  Emily,  tell  the  cook  to  have  dinner  ou 
the  table  as  soon  as  she  can,  and  Henry  must  have  the  carriage  a, 
the  door  in  half  an  hour.  Your  uncle  cannot  go  with  us,  so  we 
shall  have  to  take  care  of  ourselves.  You  know  we  should  not 
dare  to  take  Emily -or  Pauline.  We  no  doubt  shall  have  a  pleasant 
visit.  It  will  at  least  be  a  recreation,  and  we  can  remain  until  the 
fate  of  Louisville  is  sealed.  Cod  grant  it  may  never  fall  into  the 
hands  of  the  rebels,  though  it  looks  as  if  it  might.  Mr.  Knott 
told  me  there  waft  some  danger  of  such  a  disaster,  and  I  heard  a 
gentleman  remaj-t  that  the  authorities  had  ordered  everything 
valuable  to  be  reF'  ;ved  to  the  other  side  of  the  river,  and  the  pris- 
oners to  be  sent  i^i  Camp  Chase.  They  seem  to  be  preparing  for 
Bragg. 

"  But  come,  Evangeline,  we  have  no  time  to  discuss  these  mat- 
ters now.  You  had  better  go  to  your  room  and  take  out  such 
clothes,  Evangeline,  as  you  wish  to  carry  with  you.  Do  not  leave 
any  of  your  valuables  behind.     Use  three  trunks,  if  necessary." 

"  Dinner  is  ready,  mistress,"  said  Pauline,  appearing  at  the  door 
of  Mrs.  Terrant's  room. 

"  Well,  come,  Evangeline,  we  will  take  our  dinner ;  you  will 
then  have  time  to  select  such  clothing  as  you  propose  to  take. — 
Come,  we  will  not  wait  for  your  uncle,  to-day.  It  is  an  half 
hpur  earlier  than  he  usually  comes  home." 

Evangeline  mechanically  followed  her  aunt  to  the  dining-room. 
She  hail  not  once  essayed  to  speak.  Her  aunt  attributed  her 
silence  to  her  unwillingness  to  go,  on  account  of  her  approaching 
marriage,  and  accordingly  said,  as  soon  as  the  servant  had  left  the 
room : 

"  You  must  write  a  note,  Evangeline,  to  Mr.  Lasley,  postponing 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  217 

your  marriage  at  least  one  month.  Perhaps  he  may  call  in  this 
evening.  He  has  not  been  here  to-day,  has  he  ?  You  had  better 
write  the  note  as  soon  as  dinner  is  over.  I  will  tell  your  uncle  to 
have  it  handed  to  him,  if  he  has  not  left  the  city,  and  if  he  has,  to 
have  it  forwarded  without  delay  to  Bardstown.  Matters  are  in 
such  a  confused  condition  now,  that  it  would  be  impossible  to 
make  preparation  for  anything  of  the  kind.  Invite  him  to  visit 
you  at  Indianapolis,  and  if  you  choose,  you  may  marry  him  there." 

Evangeline  sat  like  some  one  petrified.  Her  heart  was  bursting 
with  fear  and  anxiety.  How  conld  she  relieve  herself  from  this 
dreadful  position  ?  She  conld  not  leave  Louisville,  that  was  im- 
possible. But  what  valid  excuse  could  she  offer  to  her  aunt  for 
desiring  to  stay.  Once  she  thought  she  would  acknowledge  all, 
and  throw  herself  on  her  aunt's  clemency.  But  she  could  not  do 
this.  It  would  be  to  ask  too  great  a  favor.  And  then  she  remem- 
bered her  aunt's  antipathy  to  Harry  Roberts,  and  her  utter  dislike 
to  all  secessionists.  She  dared  not  make  the  appeal,  so  she  sat 
still  and  silent,  her  heart  heating  violently.  The  color  came  and 
went  in  her  cheeks,  and  the  tears  would  rush  up  to  her  eyes,  but 
she  would  force  them  down  agsin  and  endeavor  to  appear  unmoved. 

"You  do  not  seem  to  be  pleased  with  the  prospect  of  your  visit, 
Evangeline,"  said  Mrs.  Terrant,  "  I  thought,  you  would  be  de- 
lighted to  have  a  short  respite  from  this  ruinous  excitement.  For 
my  part,  I  am  almost  dead.  I  do  not  believe  I  could  live  unless 
.  I  can  escape  from  it  awhile.  If  I  find  Indianapolis  in  such  a 
tumult,  I  shall  leave  ray  sifter's  and  go  into  the  country  to  some 
quiet  village,  if  such  a  place  can  be  found.  ' 

"  Indeed,  aunt,  I  do  not  wish  to  go,"  said  Evangeline,  summon- 
ing all  her  resolution  for  the  fearful  task.  •'  Do  let  me  stay  with 
uncle  Terrant,  and  keep  house  for  him  while  you  are  gone  1  I  will 
get  Mary  Lawrence  and  Mrs.  Davy  to  stay  with  me." 

"  Why,  Evangeline,  don't  you  wish  to  go  ?  What  strange  freak 
has  come  over  you?  You  are  usually  desirous  to  travel.  And 
who  will  go  with  me?  I  cannot  go  alone  ;  never  traveled  by  my- 
self in  all  my  life.  But  why  don't  you  wish  to  go,  Evangeline? 
what  reason  can  you  have  for  desiring  to  stay  here  ?" 

•'  Oh,  aunt,  I  could  not  leave  Louisville  now.  I  like  the  excite- 
ment. It  would  take  my  life  to  have  to  go  and  stay  among  the 
Yankees  now.     You  know,  aunt  Cecilia,  I  never  did  like  them." 

"  Oh,  you  needu't  be  troubled  about  the  Yaukees ;  you  shall  not 
be  annoyed  by  them." 

"  But,  aunt,  I  hope  you  will  excuse  me  this  once.  If  it  were 
any  other  time  in  the  world,  I  should  take  pleasure  in  accompany- 
ing you.  Let  uncle  Terrant  go  with  you,  and  then  he  can  return  ; 
and  if  you  desire  it,  I  can  come  out  as  soon  as  the  fate  of  Louis- 
ville is  decided.  Won't  you  excuse  .me  this  time,  dear  aunt,  and 
allow  me  to  stay  V  said  Evangeline,  most  coaxingly,  quite  reas- 
sured by  the  kind,  considerate  manner  in  which  her  aunt  received 
bar  refusal. 


248  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

"I  do  not  wish  to-' force  you,  Evangeline,  but  should  be  very 
glad  to  have  you  with  me." 

"  Oh,  aunty,  you  will  have  company  enough  when  you  get  there. 
Your  nieces  will  go  with  you  wherever  you  wish,  and  they  are 
most  charming  society,  you  know.  I  will  pack  all  your  trunks 
while  you  are  down  town,  and  will  insure  that  uncle  Terrant  will 
go  with  you. '  Had  you  not  better  talra  most  of  your  silver,  aunt, 
or  will  you  leave  it  already  packed  to  be  sent  across  the  river  as 
soon  as  it  is  ascertained  that  the  Confederates  will  certainly  reach 
here  V 

"I  believe  I  will  leave  it,  Evangeline. .  It  would  be  a  great 
burden  to  me  to  take  it  with  me,  and  you  will  keep  it  in  readiness 
to  be  moved  at  any  moment,  won't  you  V 

"  Indeed  ±  will,  aunty.  It  shall  be  the  first  thing  attended  to  by 
me  to-morrow.  I  will  have  it  all  nicely  rubbed  and  securely  put 
away." 

"Get  my  bonnet  and  mantle,  Pauline,"  said  Mrs.  Terrant  to 
the  girl,  as  she  arose  from  the  table.  "  Evangeline,  put  in  all  my 
best  dresses  in  one  trunk,  with  my  jewelry  and  velvet  cloak,  and 
fill  another  with  plainer  wear,  and  yet  another  with  under-clothing. 
Pauline  and  Emily  must  do  the  packing,  you  supervise.  I  shall 
leave  for  Jeffersonville  at  half-past  four  o'clock." 

"  Oh,  1  will  have  everything  ready,  aunt,"  said  Evangeline, 
gaily,  feeliitg  as  light  as  a  fairy. 

Leaving  a  few  directions  with  the  servants,  Mrs.  Terrant  then 
threw  on  her  bonnet  and  mantle,  and  drove  down  the  street  to 
shop. 

Evangeline  applied  herself  most  energetically  to  the  task  before 
her.  Wardrobes,  drawers,  boxes,  were  robbed  of  their  contents  to 
be  emptied  into  the  three  ponderous  trunks  that  stood  open  in  the 
middle  of  the  room  awaiting -their  filling.  Evangeline  had  scarce- 
ly began  operations  before  her  uncle  Terrant  came  in. 

"  Heigh-day,  Evangie,  ain't  you  and  your  aunt  ready  to  be  off, 
yet !  Oh,  this  trunk-packing  !  what  a  nuisance  to  the  world  !  I 
don't  see  what  women  want  with  such  an  interminable  quantity  of 
clothing,  anyhow.  Come,  come,  make  haste,  you  will  not  be 
ready  in  time.  We  must  cross  the  river  at  precisely  half-past 
four." 

"  Go,  Emily,  tell  cook  to  bring  in  uncle's  dinner  directly.  Here, 
uncle,  come,  lie  down  on  the  lounge  and  rest.  I  want  to  talk 
with  you  awhile,"  and  Evangeline  prepared  the  pillows  in  her 
sweetest  manner,  and  drew  down  the  shade  at  the  head  of  the 
couch,  so  that  the  light  would  not  fall  too  glaringly  on  the  mer- 
chant's face. 

"  Now,  uncle,  I  have  a  little  kindness  to  ask  of  you,"  said  Evan- 
geline, with  one  of  her  charming  smiles,  aS  she  threw  her  aunt's 
large  plaid  shawl  over  his  shoulders,  and  smoothed  back  his  hair 
.from  his  forehead. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  249 

"  And  what  is  it,  child  ?"  asked  the  old  gentleman,  in  a  gentle 
tone. 

Evangeline  knew  her  uncle's  heart  was  all  right.  He  had  call- 
ed her  "  child,"  with  him  the  most  endearing  epithet,  and  so  she 
kne]t  beside  him,  and  said  : 

"  Uncle,  I  do  wish  you  would  go  with  aunty  to  Indianapolis, 
to-night.  Now,  won't  you  just  for  my  sake,  ancle  I  I  cannot  leave 
Louisville  now,  and  you  know  she  cannot  travel  by  herself.  And 
aunty  is  so  worn  out  with  the  excitement,  she  really  needs  a  little 
rest — and  then,  her  heart  is  so  bent  on  going.  I  shall  have  to  go, 
if  you  don't,  and  stay  there  with  the  Yankees  until  aunty  gets 
ready  to  come  home  again.  And  I  would  sooner  be  in  Fort  War- 
ren ;  for  then  I  wouldn't  be  aimoyed  by  them,  you  know.  I  never 
did  like  the  Yankees.  I  would  so  much  rather  stay  with  >/ou. 
Now,  won't  you  go,  just  for  me  V  and  Evangeline  stroked  back 
the  silver-threaded  hair,  and  patted  her  uncle's  cheek  most  caress- 
ingly.'' 

"  Oh,  my  child,  I  don't  see  how  I  can  go,  1  am  so  busy.  Heels 
over  head,  scarcely  time  to  draw  my  breath — large  Government 
contract — must  be  attended  to,  ami  it  keeps  me  so  busy,  busy, 
busy  !" 

"But  you  will  soon  be  back  again,  uncie.  Only  one  day  and 
night,  and  the  relaxation  from  business  will  do  you  good.  I  am 
sure  it  will,  and  then  I  shall  keep  such  a  nice  house  fur  you.  1 
am  to  be  your  housekeeper  while  aunty's  gone.  You  didn't  know 
that,  did  you  1  And  you  shall  have  such  good  coffee  every  morn- 
ing, and  such  excellent  dinners,  just  when  you  please,  and  nice 
lunch  at  your  store  every  day  at  eleven,  and  music  in  the  evening 
to  drive  away  care  and  trouble,  and  everything  pleasant  and  nice. 
Now,  won't  you  go]     Ob,  I  am  sure  you  won't  say  no,  uncle  !" 

"  Oh,  you  women  !  Evangie,  you  women  !  How  you  do  have 
everything  your  own  way.  There  is  no  managing  you  at  all.  No 
wonder  poor  Adam  fell,  if  Eve  was  half  as  persuasive  as  you 
women  are  now-a-days.  I  am  most  outrageously  busy,  but  I  sup- 
pose I  shall  have  to  go,  just  to  please  you,  for  your  aunt  is  bent 
on  the  trip,  and  somebody  must  go  with  her.  But  what  will  you 
do  to-night  1    You  can't  stay  here  alone." 

"  Oh,  never  mind  me,  uncle,  I  can  take  care  of  myself  to-night. 
I  am  going  round  to  Mrs.  Ludlow's,  to  stay  with  Flora  llichey,  a 
friend  of  mine  from  the  country.  Oh,  I  am  so  delighted  you  will 
go !  And  when  you  get  back  to-morrow,  you  shall  have  every 
thing  so  nice,  and  all  your  own  way,  and  you  shall  see  what  a  good 
housekeeper  I'll  be.  B*ut  there  is  Sarah  to  tell  us  dinner  is  ready. 
I  had  you  a  good,  strong  cup  of  tea  made.  I  thought  you  would 
enjoy  it  this  chilly  day.  ^Yalk  in,  uncle.'"  and  Evangeline  assisted 
her  uncle  to  rise,  and  led  him  to  the  diniug-room. 

During  dinner  she  chatted  away  so  gaily,  and  attended  to  Mr. 
Terrant's  wishes  with  such  a  pleasing,  fascinating  manner,  that 


250  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

that  gentleman  began  to  feel  that  he  .had  made  quite  a  good  arrange- 
ment in  retaining  Evangeline  during  her  aunt's  absence,  even 
though  it  should  cost  him  some  present  inconvenience. 

With  no  child  of  his  own,  it  was  but  natural  that  the  uncle 
should  lavish  his  love  on  his  young  and  interesting  niece.  Evan- 
geline was  the  only  child  of  an  only  sister,  who,  at  the  age  of  six- 
teen, had  married  a  Frenchman  of  some  means,  and  who  immedi- 
ately after  the  marriage  had  taken  his  young  wife  to  Rouen,  his 
native  city,  where  misforiune  after  misfortune  beset  them,  until  they 
were  finally  left  in  very  limited  crcumstances. 

When  Evangeline  was  four  years  of  age,  Monsieur  Lenoir  died. 
His  widow,  gathering  together  as  best  she  could  the  remnant  of 
her  husband's  property,  returned  with  her  daughter  to  America. 
Two  short  years  found  Evangeline  an  orphan,  in  charge  of  her 
only  remaining  relative,  Mr.  Terrant.  She  brought  as  her  dower 
a  few  hundred  dollars,  which  her  mother  had  scrupulously  pre- 
served for  her,  and  which  Mr.  Terrant  immediately  placed  on  in- 
terest, for  the  benefit  of  his  niece  when  she  should  marry  or  become 
of  age.  She  was  adopted  into  his  own  family,  and  always  regard- 
ed by  him  as  his  own  child,  and  although  a  man  of  extensive  busi- 
ness and  of  few  words,  yet  he  had  found  both  time  and  means  to 
make  Evangeline  feel  that  she  was  beloved  by  him. 

"I  must  go  to  the  store,  child,  and  make  my  arrangements," 
said  Mr.  Terrant,  as  he  rose  from  the  table. 

"  And  shall  I  tell  aunt  you  will  be  back  in  time  to  go  with 
her?"  she  said,  as  she  followed  him  into  the  hall,  holding  to  his 
baud. 

"  Yes ;  I  will  be  here  with  a  hack  precisely  at  four  ojclock. 
Have  everything  ready,  Evangie,  so  that  there  will  be  no  delay." 

"  Oh,  yes,  that  I  will.    Everything  shall  be  aufait  in  time." 

Just  as  Mr.  Terrant  was  about  to  place  bis  baud  on  the  door- 
knob to  go  out,  the  bell  rang.  Evangeline,  stepping  back  to  the 
parlor  door,  paused  to  see  who  it  was.  Mr.  Terrant  opened  the 
door,  and  there  stood  revealed  the  form  of  Ed.  Lasley.  Evange- 
line caught  a  glimpse  of  it,  and  with  one  bound  rushed  into  the 
parlor.  This  was  the  only  way  of  escape.  As  she  stood  there 
trembling,  scarce  knowing  what  to  do,  she  heard  her  uncle  say  : 

"  How  do  you  do  to-day,  Mr.  Lasley  ?     Walk  in,  sir."        , 

"  Is  Miss  Lenoir  in  1"  the  young  man  asked,  as  he  moved  for- 
ward to  enter  the  hall. 

"  Yes,  she  is  at  home,  sir  ;  walk  in,  walk  in." 

The  young  man  entered  the  hall,  and  encountering  Pauline,  who 
had. gone  to  answer  the  bell,  said  : 

"  Tell  Miss  Lenoir  Mr.  Lasley  wishes  to  see  her  in  the  parlor." 

"  I  will  go  and  see  if  she  is  in,  sir." 

"  Ob,  yes  she  is  ;  Mr.  Terrant  has  just  told  me  so." 

Evangeline  waited  to  hear  no  more.  Frightened  at  the  idea  of 
encountering  the  man  who  had  threatened  her,  and  whom  she  saw 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  25t 

on  the  street  but  a  few  hours  before  in  such  a  disgusting  plight, 
she  sprung  into  the  back  parlor  through  the  folding  door,  and, 
gaining  the  door  that  led  into  the  hall,  stood  trembling  with  alarm. 
As  soon  as  she  heard  the  step  of  the  young  man  in  the  parlor,  she 
glided  across  the  hall  into  t  lie  dining-room,  and  from  thence  she 
gained  her  aunt's  chamber,  where,  locking  the  door  behind  her,  she 
threw  herself  on  the  couch  near  the  window,  wind  hid  her  face 
in  her  hands. 

"What  is  the  matter,  Miss  Vangy  ?"  asked  Emily,  who  was 
busily  engaged  packing  one  of  the  three-  large  trunks  with  her 
mistress's  silk  dresses  and  laces.  "  You  look  scared  to  death,  Miss 
Vangy — pale  as  a  ghost!" 

A  knock  was  heard  at  the  door. 

"  Oh,  do  not  let  any  one  come  in,  Emily  !"  said  Evangeline,  her 
voice  tremulous  with  fear.     "  Keep  the  door  locked,  do." 

"  Its  only  Pauline,  Miss  Vangy;  don't  you  hear  her  voice  ?" 
and  Emily  turned  the  key  and  admitted  her  before  the  frightened 
girl  could  command  her  not  to  do  it. 

"  Mr.  Lasley  wants  to  see  you  in  the  parlor,  Miss  Vangy,"  said 
Pauline,  as  she 'approached  the  bedside  and  stood  over  her  young 
mistress,  who  had  not  yet  dared  to  look  up.  M  Here  is  his  card, 
mam." 

The  young  girl  started  up.  "  Tell  him,  Pauline,  that  T  cannot 
see  him.  I  am  engaged  making  preparations  to  go  to  Indianapolis 
to-night." 

The  servant  bore  her  young  mistress's  message  to  the  parlor, 
and  soon  returned  with  one  from  young  Lasley. 

"  Mr.  Lasley  says  he  must  see  you,  Miss  Vangy ;  he  cannot 
leave  the  house  until  be  does.  Pie  has  something  important  to  say 
to  you,  and  he  must  see  you  now  directly." 

"Pauline,  tell  Mr.  Lasley,"  said  the  young  girl,  trembling  from 
head  to  foot,  yet  with  her  eye  fixed  steadily  on  the  servant  that 
stood  awaiting  her  bidding,  "  that  I  cannot  see  him  this  evening  ; 
it  is  impossible.  Then  do  you  come  here  and  finish  putting  your 
mistress's  clothes  in  that  trunk.  It  is  now  almost  three  o'clock, 
and  everything  must  be  in  readiness  in  a  half  hour." 

"  What  did  he  say,  Pauline?"  asked  the  young  girl,  nervously, 
as  the  servant  returned  from  the  delivery  of  her  last  message  to 
the  visitor  in  the  parlor. 

"  He  says  he  is  going  to  sfcay  here  until  he  does  see  you,  Miss 
Vangy.  That  he  won't  move  one  step  until  you  come  into  that 
parlor !" 

.  "Then  he  will  weary  of  waiting,"  said  the  young  girl  to  herself, 
as  she  rose  from  the  couch  and  proceeded  to  attend  to  her  aunt's 
jewelry. 

"  Lock  that  door  immediately,  Pauline,  and  come  here  and  re- 
move these  things  from  the  two  drawers  to  that  iarge  black  trunk 
by  the  wash-stand.     And  you  and  Emily  make  all  the  haste  you 


252  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

9 
can.  You  have  but  little  time  ;  the  hack  will  be  here  at  four,  and 
they  must  not  be  kept  waiting.  This  carpet-bag  leave  ;  I'll  at- 
tend to  it  myself.  Hand  me  those  rubbers,  they  must  go  in  it. 
Put  those  dresses  and  those  mantles  in  very  smoothly,  Emily  ;  and, 
Pauline,  roll  those  under-clothes  very  tightly." 

Evangeline  having  secured  her  aunt's  jewelry  and  attended  to 
the  important  carpet-bag,  threw  herself  on  the  lounge,  where  she 
could  superintend  the  operations  of  the  two  girls.  Her  face  was 
crimson ;  her  heart  beat  tumultously,  and  her  temples  throbbed 
violently ;  yet  she  felt  she  must  nerve  herself  to  the  task,  cost 
what  it  might.  What  she  had  undertaken  must  be  accomplished, 
and  time  was  pressing. 

As  she  lay  there,  she  could  occasionally  hear  across  the  hall  the 
footsteps  of  young  Lasley,  as  he  moved  about  the  parlor.  Every 
time  this  noise  reached  her  ears,  she  started  up  and  looked  towards 
the  door.     Once  she  heard  him  step  out  into  the  hall. 

"  Thank  God — thank  God — he  is  going  !"  she  said  to  herself, 
and  suppressing  her  breath  and  ordering  the  two  servants  to  be 
silent,  she  waited  in  torturing  expectation  for  the  hall  door  to  open. 
But  the  young  man,  after  walking  to  the  front  door  and  looking 
out  through  the  side  lights,  returned  to  the  parlor  and  resumed 
his  seat. 

"  Why  don't  you  go  in  now,  Miss  Vangy,  to  see  Mr.  Lasley  ? 
Me  and  Emily  can  finish  these  trunks  in  time.  And  you  see  he  is 
not  going  until  he  does  see  you." 

"  Attend  to  your  own  business,  Pauline,  and  finish  those  trunks. 
I  do  not  wish  to  see  Mr.  Lasley  this  evening,  and  do  not  intend 
to  do  it.     Oh,  if  he  should  remain  here  until  my  aunt  returns  ! 
What  shall  I  do  1     I  cannot  explain  this  thing  to  her  now,  and 
she  will  be  all  curious  to  know  about  it.      Oh,  I  do  wish  he  would 
go !     What  a  simpleton  to  be  sitting  up  there,  thinking  he  will 
force  me  to  come.     I  wouldn't  go  into  that  parlor  now  if  he  suffer- 
ed death  for  it.    Half  an  hour  he  has  been  here  already  ;  he  must 
possess  some  patience  to  set  up  there  all  that  time  alone." 
"  This  trunk  is  as  full  as  it  will  hold,  Miss  Vangy." 
"And  have  you  put  in  all  the  handsome  dresses,  and  the  man- 
tles, and  aunt's  velvet  cloak  1" 
"Yes,  mam." 

"  Well,  set  it  to  one  side — help  her  there,  Pauline — and  then 
go  up  stairs,  Emily,  and  look  in  my  room  and  bring  your  Miss 
Cecilia's  large  traveling  shawl  and  that  cloth  cloak  ;  she  may  wish 
them  both.     Go  the  back  way." 

Again  Evangeline  heard  the  footfall  in  the  hall,  and  again  she 
.started  up  and  listened  breathlessly.     The  young  man  repeated 
the  same  act  of  going  to  the  door,  peeping  out,  and  then  returning 
walked  into  the  parlor  and  strode  across  the  room. 

"  He  is  growing  restless,"  said  Evangeline  to  herself.  "  He 
will  go  after  awhile  ;  another  half  hour !"  and  she  again  took  out 


OF  MOKGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  253 

her  watch  to  consult  the  time.  "  Another  half  hour,  and  his  pa- 
tience must  be  exhausted.  God  grant  he  may  leave  before  my 
aunt  comes!" 

Fifteen  minutes  more  had  passed.  The  trunks  were  ready  for 
strapping-.     Again  the  footfall  was  heard  in  the  hall.    It  passed. 

"Thank  God — thank  God!  he  is  gone  at  last!"  exclaimed 
Evangeline,  as  she  heard  the  hall  door  open.  She  sprang  to  the 
window  to  see  him  pass  out.  She  waited  a  moment,  wondering 
why  he  did  not  descend  the  steps.  She  heard  the  door  close. — 
"  Now  he  is  gone,  surely."  She  pressed  her  face  against  the  glass 
to  catch  a  glimpse  of  his  figure  ;  a  moment  more,  and  she  heard 
the  sa»me  detested  footfall  enter  the  parlor.  Looking  towards  the 
front  gate,  she  discovered  her  aunt  alighting  from  her  carriage. 

"  What  shall  I  do — what  shall  I  do !"  she.  said,  wringing  her 
hands  in  agony.  "  There  is  aunty,  and  that  simpleton  is  still  in 
the  parlor.  What  will  she  say  when  she  learns  that  he  has  been 
here  an  hour,  and  I  have  nol  been  in  to  see  him  ?  I  have  a  great 
mind  to  go  in  now.  No,  I  won't.  He  shall  not  conquer  me  by 
his  rudeness.  May  be  he'll  have  sense  enough  to  keep  quiet,  and 
aunty  will  be  in  such  haste  that  she  will  not  find  out  he  is  here. 
She  has  only  fifteen  minutes.  Oh,  what  will  those  fifteen  minutes 
develop  !" 

"  Unlock  that  door,  Emily,  and  open  the  hall  door,  and  tell  aunty 
as  soon  as  she  comes  in  that  all  her  trunks  are  ready.  Pauline,  go 
and  bring  those  packages  "from  the  driver.  Did  you  leave  room 
for  them  in  the  brown  trunk  ?" 

"  Yes,  mam." 

"  All  things  ready,  Evangie  ?"  said  Mrs.  Terrant,  bursting  into 
the  room.  "  I  have  but  fifteen  minutes.  Your  uncle  will  be  here 
in  that  time  with  a  carriage,  and  he  says  I  must  not  keep  him 
waiting  a  moment.  He  is  goiug  with  me,  he  told  me.  Bring  my 
large  shawl,  Emily." 

"  Here  it  is,  aunty,  and  your  cloak,  too." 

"  I  shall  want  them  both.  I  will  wear  the  cloak,  and  Mr.  Ter- 
rant can  take  the  shawl  on  his  arm.  I  shall  need  it  to-night.  The 
whole  town  is  in  an  uproar,  Evangeline,  about  Gen.  Bragg'*s  coming. 
Ob,  I  am  so  glad  I  am  getting  away  from  it.  I  should  go  crazy 
to  stay  here  a  week  longer.  Here,  Evangeline,  you  put  these 
things  in  the  trunk,  will  you,  where  they  won't  get  mashed.  There 
are  some  ruches  and  flowers  in  that  box ;  I  could  not  get  my  bonnet 
trimmed  in  time,  so  I  bought  the  materials  and  will  have  it  done  in 
Indianapolis.  Shopkeepers,  milliners,  mantua-makers — everybody 
— is  beside  themselves.  If  you  had  seen  Mr.  Lasley  I  would  take 
you  with  me  just  as  you  are,  and  let  your  trunks  be  sent  after  you. 
Tell  him,  Evangeline,  that  the  marriage  must  be  postponed  a 
month,  until  all  this  noise  and  confusion  is  over.  It  would  be 
impossible  to  give  you  a  wedding  under  such  circumstances." 

"  Sit  down,  aunty,  and  rest  a  moment ;  you  look  so  flurried. — 
You  are  ready  now." 


254  EAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

"  Everything  in  the  trunks  ?    Well,  then,  strap  them  and  tell 
Henry  to  take  them  out  to  the  front  gate.     Did  you  put  me  up  a 
snack,  Evangeline  ?     I  may  not  get  any  supper." 
"  No  :  but  I  can  in  a  moment." 

"  Some  bread  and  cheese  child,  and  some  6f  that  cold  ham  with 
a  little  pickle.  Where  is  my  palm  fan?  I  may  need  it.  I  be- 
lieve it  is  in  the  parlor,"  and  Mrs.  Terrant  rose  from  her  seat  to 
get  it,  as  no  servant  was  present  to  wait  on  her. 

Evangeline,  who  heard  her  words  and  saw  her  movement  through 
the  open  door,  bounded  into  the  room. 

"  Oh,  aunty,  do  sit  still.  I  will  get  it  for  you.  See,  your  col- 
lar is  wrong  side  out.     Change  that  while  I  get  the  fan." 

She  was  about  to  cross  the  hall  to  encounter  young  Lasley  in 
the  parlor,  when  Emily  came  in  from  assisting  Henry  with  the 
trunks. 

"  Aunt's  palm  fan,  Emily.  *  Is  it  in  the  parlor  ?  Not  a  word 
for  your  life  !" 

"  Its  in  the  back  parlor,  Miss  Vangy.  I  saw  it  there  when  I 
cleaned  up  the  room  this  morning." 

"  Get  it  quickly.  Not  a  word  about  Mr.  Lasley.  Do  you 
hear  V 

"Yes,  mam,"  replied  the  girl,  whose  wonder  was  every  moment 
increased  by  her  young  mistress's  strange  movements. 

Evangeline  hastened  to  the  dining-room,  and  with  the  assistance 
of  Sarah,  the  cook,  soon  returned  with  a  nice  package  of  edibles, 
which  she  deposited  in  her  aunt's  traveling  basket. 

"  There's  your  uncle  with  the  carriage.  Write  me,  Evangeline, 
at  least  three  letters  a  week — and  don't  forget  to  tell  Mr.  Lasley 
about  the  postponement — and  attend  to  the  silver.  Emily,  you 
and  Pauline  do  what  your  Miss  Vangie  tells  you,  and  behave  your- 
selves." And  Mrs.  Terrant  walked  rapidly  out  into  the  hall,  fol- 
lowed by  her  niece  and  the  two  servants. 

"  Oh,  will  he  come  out?"  asked  Evangeline  to  herself.  "  If  he 
will  only  stay  a  few  moments  longer,  all  will  be  safe." 

But  the  young  man,  who  knew  full  well  how  kindly  Mrs.  Ter- 
rant had  treated  him,  was  determined  to  retaliate,  if  possible,  on 
the  young  lady  who  had  left  him  waiting  one  long,  weary  hour  to 
catch  a  glimpse  at  her  person. 

And — oh,  horrors  ! — just  as  Mrs.  Terrant  stepped  into  the  hall 
from  the  room  door,  he  issued  from  the  opposite  one,  and  bade  her 
and  Evangeline  good  evening,  and,  taking  his  hat  from  the  rack, 
proceeded  to  accompany  them  to  the  carriage. 

"Evangie  has  told  you  that  I  am  going  to  Indianapolis  to-night, 
Mr.  Lasley  ?     Scared  away  by  the  Confederates." 

".This  is  the  first  glimpse  I  have  caught  of  Miss  Evangie  this 
evening,  Mrs.  Terrant."    • 

"  Oh,  but  a  short  time  in,  and  Evangie  has  been  so  busy." 

"  Have  been  in  the  parlor  an  hour  and  twenty  minutes." 


4  OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  J55 

The  aunt  looked  at  her  niece  wonderingly.  The  girl  colored, 
but  made  no  reply. 

"  Found  Evangie  very  busy  this  evening,  Mr.  Lasley.  But  I 
suppose  she  has  had  time  to  say  all  that  was  necessary,1"  remarked 
Mr.  Terrant,  jocularly. 

"  I  have  just  this  moment  seen  her  for  the  first  time,  Mr.  Ter- 
rant," replied  the  young  man  surlily. 

The  uncle  cast  a  penetrating  glance  on  Evangeline.  The  rose 
on  her  cheek  blushed  itself  to  crimson.  She  was  about  to  say  to 
her  uncle  that  she  had  been  so  busy  as  to  prevent  her  appearance 
in  the  parlor;  but  conscience  interfered  and  saved  her  the  sin  of 
prevarication,  and,  smiling  a  forced  smile,  she  remained  silent. 

"  Evangie  is  very  tired  now,  Mr.  Lasley,  and  I  know  cannot 
prove  interesting;  so  you  had  better  take  a  seat  with  us  and  drive 
down  to  the  hotel,"  and  Mr.  Terrant  placed  the  packages  so  as  to 
give  the  young  man  a  comfortable  seat.  '•  We  have  not  a  moment 
to  lose  ;  it  is  now  four  o'clock,"  said  Mr.  Terrant,  consulting  his 
watch.  "Come,  Mrs.  Terrant,  let  me  assist  you  in,  and  you,  Mr. 
Lasley." 

The  aunt  bade  Evangeline  farewell,  whispering  in  her  ear  as 
she  kissed  her :  "  Don't  forget  to  speak  to  Mr.  Lasley  about  the 
postponement,"  and  stepped  into  the  carriage.  The  young  man 
hesitated. 

"Just  as  well  ride,  Mr.  Lasley,"  said  Mrs.  Terrant,  as  she  dis- 
covered his  pause 

Turning  to  Evangeline,  he  said:  "I  shall  call  and  see  you  at. 
six.     Where  shall  1  find  you  1" 

"  Not  at  borne,"  was  the  low  reply. 

"  Very  well,"  he  remarked,"  mistaking  her  answer,  and  putting 
his  foot  on  the  step,  entered  and  closed  the  door. 

"  Good-bye,  my  child.  I  shall  be  back  to  morrow,  without  an 
accident,"  called  out  her  uncle  as  the  carriage  drove  off. 


CHAPTER  LII. 

EXCITEMENTS — DISAPPOINTMENTS. 

I 

Evangeline  hastened  to  her  own  room.  Closing  the  door,  she 
threw  herself  on  the  bed  and  gave  way  to  the  pent-up  excitement 
of  the  day  in  a  flood  of  weeping.  It  was  the  outbreak  of  the  tem- 
pest that  had  been  silently  gathering  together  its  mighty  forces. — 
She  wept  long  and  bitterly  as  she  thought  of  all  she  had  endured— 


256  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

all  she  must  yet  meet;  and  as  she  looked  out  upon  the  responsi- 
bilities of  the  coming  two  weeks,  she  shuddered  and  recoiled  as  one 
who  contemplates  a  fearful  doom.  How  strange,  how  wildly 
strange,  to  her  was  her  present  position.  She  who  had  been  the 
petted  child  of  fortune — who  had  lived  so  dependent  on  others,  and 
who,  hedged  about  by  kind  protection,  had  never  felt  otherwise 
than  safe  from  all  danger,  free  from  all  care.  It  was  the  turning 
point  in  her  life.  She  had  now  assumed  to  act  for  herself,  was 
about  to  cut  adrift  from  the  old  moorings,  and  launch  out  on  an 
unknown  sea.  Should  she  succeed,  was  the  question  she  asked 
herself  ;  for  she  did  not  for  a  moment  swerve  in  her  purpose. 

"  It  is  for  Harry,"  she  said,  "  and  whether  or  not  I  am  success- 
ful, I  must  make  the  attempt.  For  his  sake  I  will  encounter  every 
obstacle,  endure  every  trial,  meet  every  reproach.  He  is  worthy 
of  all  this  on  my  part,  and  I  shall  not  showmysel  unworthy  of  him. 
If  I  accomplish  my  purposes,  I  secure  my  happiness  for  life ;  if 
I  fail,  I  have  done  my  duty— all — all  I  could — and  this,  poor  as  it 
is,  will  be  some  consolation  to  me  amid  my  grief  and  helplessness. 
If  I  do  not  marry  Harry  1  shall  have  to  marry  Lasley.  My  aunt 
is  determined  on  it.  But — no — I  cannot  do  it !  Rather  than  this, 
I  will  forever  immure  myself  in  a  convent,  where,  shut,  out  from 
the  world,  I  could  cherish  my  own  sorrows,  indulge  my  life-long 
grief.  Oh  !  should  Harry  fail  to  escape  !  should  he  be 'shot,  or  die 
in  prison !  Then — then — what  then  !  God  grant  he  may  get  out 
safely !"  she  ejaculated  aloud,  as  the  thought  of  his  death  swept 
through  her  mind. 

"A  life  of  dark  trial  mine;,has  been.  Fatherless,  motherless — 
no  brother,  no  sister — an  orphan  alone  in  the  wide  world.  And 
yet  my  uncle  and  aunt  have  been  kind  to  me — but  they  could  not 
love  me  as  my  poor  mother — they  could  never  understand  my  heart 
as  she  could  have  done.  Oh,  no  one  can  love  us  like  a  mother — 
none  enter  into  our  joys  or  sorrows  as  she — none  forgive  like  her 
own  tender  heart.  Alone,  alone,  I  have  been — alone,  aione,  I  am 
now.  None  truly  loves  me  but  Harry,  and  he  loves  me  with  all 
my  faults ;  he  knows  them  all  and  loves  me  still !  and  shall  I  not 
risk  everything  for  him  1 — dare  everything  to  remove  him  from  the 
hands  of  his  cruel  enemies'?  Yes,  yes,  if  I  perish  in  the  attempt, 
I'll  try  it!  I  will  not  shrink  now,  that  dangers  seem  to  surround 
me  on  every  side ;  I'll  nerve  this  heart  of  mine  to  bear  all  things, 
that  I  may  accomplish  my  purpose !"  and  she  sprung  from  the  bed 
and  dashed  away  her  tears,  her  large  black  eyes  flushed  with  the 
fires  of  her  invincible  resolve. 

The  clock  struck  the  half  hour. 

"I  must  not  weep  now— no  time  for  tears!  Action,  action,  de- 
mands my  thoughts,  my  time,  my  efi°brts.  I  have  a  great  work  to 
perform,  and  1  must  lay  aside  my  grief — 'tis  but  a  weakness  to 
weep,  when  duty  calls  to  exertion.  Five  o'clock,  and  I  must  be 
at  Mr.  Ludlow's.     What  if  my  plan  should  be  discovered  1     But, 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  257 

no!  this  cannot  be — they  will  think  it  a  mistake  of  the  shopman. 
But  1  will  be  there  in  time." 

Throwing  back  her  hair,  Evangeline  bathed  her  face  until  the 
throbbing  of  her  brain  was  paVtially  allayed,  then  combing  the 
rich  masses  of  her  black  hair,  she  changed  her  dress  for  a  dark 
blue  silk,  and  throwing  on  her  hat  aud  a  black  silk  paletot,  she 
descended  to  her  aunt's  room  to  give  directions  to  the. servants 
about  closing  t be  house  for  the  night,  telling  them  she  would  not 
return  until  the  following  morning,  at  10  o'clock. 

"  Be  careful,  Emily,  see  that  none  of  the  windows  are  left  open, 
and  shut  the  conservatory  doors,  it  will  be  cold  to-night.  And 
poor  little  Blanche,  give  her  her  supper  and  breakfast,  and  put  her 
to  sleep  in  your  room.''  she  added,  caressing  the  little  poodle  that- 
just  then  sprung  up  at  her  side  and  commenced  jumping  around  as 
if  by  its  gauibols  it  wished  to  drive  the-  sad,  weary  look  from  the 
face  of  its  young  mistress. 

"Poor  Blanche!"  said  Evangeline,  stopping  and  taking  up  the 
pet  in  her  anus.  "  You  are  so  happy,  and  my  poor  heart  is  break- 
t  ing." 

"You  do  look  so  tired,  Miss  'Yangy,"  said  Emily  to  her  young 
mistress,  as  she  came  from  the  dining  room  into  Mrs.  Terrain's 
room,  where  Evangeline  was  standing  with  the  poodle,  smoothing 
•its  soft,  white  hair.  "  You  ain't  going  to  walk  round  to  Miss  Lud- 
low's ?  Lei  me  tell  Harry  to  bring  the  carriage,  he  hasn't  put  it 
away  yet;  stopped  to  eat  his  dinner  first." 

"  If  the  carriage  is  ready,  Emily,  Henry  may  bring  it  round,  for 
1  am  very  weary.  But  I  have  no  time  to  lose,  I  must  be  at  Mrs. 
Ludlow's  at  five,  and  it  now  wants  only  ten  minutes  of  the  hour. 
.See  to  it  immediately,  Emily." 

The  girl  left  the  room  ;  in  a  moment  she  returned  to  inform  her 
young  mistress  that  Henry  was  driving  round  to  the  front  gate. 

"  Don't  forget  what  I  have  told  you,  Emily.  Attend  carefully, 
Blanche,"  she  said,  handing  the  dog  to  her.  Then  seeing  that  the 
abutters  were  closed,  she  passed  through  the  front  hall,  followed 
by  the  girl. 

"Is  this  a  card  of  Mr.  Lasley,  Miss  'Vangy,"  and  Emily  handed 
the'young  girl  an  envelope,  which  she  had  just  picked  up  near  the 
hat  rack. 

Evangeline  took  it,  and  reaching  the  hall  door,  paused  to  look 
at  the  superscription.  She  recognized  the  haudwriting  of  Lasley, 
and  saw  the  note  was  directed  to  a  young  gentleman  of  Bards- 
town,  a  fast  young  man,  but  a  particular  friend  and  intimate  asso- 
ciate of  Lasley.  Evangeline  also  discovered  that  it  had  been  re- 
cently penned,  and  that  it  was  unsealed.  Her  curiosity  was  ex- 
cited, but  without  waiting  to  give  the  subject  further  considera- 
tion, she  slipped  the  missive  into  her  pocket  and  hastened  to  the 
carriage. 

In  a  few  minutes  she  was  at  Mrs.  Ludlow's  door.  Alighting 
17 


258  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

from  the  carriage,  she  rang  the  bell  nervously.  A  servant  ushered 
her  into  the  parlor,  where  sal  Mrs.  RicheV  and  her  daughter,  and 
several  lady  visitors.  They  were  all  strangers  to  Evangeline  save 
Mrs.  Dumfries,  who  was  formerly  an  intimate,  friend  of  her  aunt, 
but -differing  very  widely  in  political  seijtiment,  the  two  had  ceased 
their  friendly  visits,  and  were  now  so  estranged  as  scarcely  to  re- 
cognize ear!)  other,  in  meeting. 

After  the  introduction,  Evangeline  took  a  seat  bv  this  lady,  and 
the  two  engaged  in  conversation.  In  answer  to  Mrs:  Dumfries' 
inquiry  for  Mrs.  Tenant's  health,  Evangeline  re-pied  that  her 
aunt's  health  was  good,  ftit  that  still  suffering  from  nervousness, 
she  had   allowed  herself  to  he  soared  away  by  the  Southerners, 

"  And  you  did  not  go  with  her,  Evangie  1  Didn't  you  feel  afraid 
of  tlie  rebels V  asked  Mrs.  Dumfries,  With  some  surprise. 

"Ob,  rio,  madam  ;  I  am  not  afraid  of  "Soul hern  people.  I  am 
Southern  myself.  1  wish  General  Bragg  won  d  come  and  take 
possession  of  the  city,  and  release  us  all  from  Yankee  rule,  I  am 
so  tired  of  it" 

"  Your  aunt  is  violently  opposed  to  that,  isn't  she  V  asked  Mrs. 
Dumfries,  smiling  ;  "and  your  uncle,  too  V 

"Aunt  is  Union;  uncle  says  hut  little  about  it.  He  thinks  the 
whole  thing  is  wrong,  both  parties  are  to  blame,  and  wishes  the. 
war  would  end.  Do  you  ihink,  Mrs.  Dumfries,  that  it  is  possible 
for  General  Bragg  to  come  to  Louisville'/"  Evangeline  asked,  the 
earnestness  of  her  voice  attesting  fba  deep  interest  she  felt. 

•"  it  is  possible,  Evangeline,  I  think,  but  perhaps  not  probable. 
Unionists'are  dreadfully  alarmed.  The  rumor  this  evening  is  that 
he  is  marching  direct  upon  our  city  with  a  force  of  seventy-five 
thousand  veteran  troops.  W  this  be  true,  he  can  take  the  place 
without  trouble.  The  troops  already  here  and  those  that  are  pour- 
ing in  hourly,  are  wholly  undisciplined,  and  could  make  hut  poor 
resistance  to  such  an  army-  I  have  never  seen  such  intense  ex- 
citement as  prevails  in  the  city.  The  Union  men  don't  know  what 
to  do,  those  1  mean  who  are  informed  and  capable  of  judging  of 
matters.  They  are  moving  all  their  valuables  to  Jeffersonville 
and  New  Albany.  General  Nelson,  I  understand,  has  ordered  all 
the  heaviest  guns  across  the  river,  to  he  placed  in  posit  urn  to  shell 
the  city,  in  the  event  Bragg  comes,  lie  says  he  will  contest  every 
inch  of  ground,  and  if  driven  across  the  river  he  will  shell  the  city 
from  the  opposite  side ;  that  not  one  stone  shall  be  left  on  another, 
if  Hie  rebels  get  the  place." 

"  General  Nelson  is  a  very  rash.man,  Mrs.  Dumfries,"  remarked 
Mrs.  Sedgwick:  "  I  have  known  him  from  his  boyhood.  There  is 
a  great,  deal  of  bluster  -about  him.  I  do  not  regard  his  threats 
with  nrach  terror." 

"The  only  fear  is  his  extreme  recklessness,"  said  Tors.  Miller  ; 
*'  I  judge  from  what  I  have  learned  of  his  character,  that  he  is  a 
■desiertdo,  and  -would  not  besitat.-;  to  do  anything  that  would  sub* 
^erv«  Jiis  purposes" 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  259 

"  But  even  if  he  were  crazy  enough  to  attempt  to  execute  his 
threat,  I  feel  confident  his  own  party  would  not  allow -him  to  do  it. 
Union  men  are  more  avaricious  than  patriotic,  and  will  never  he 
willing  to  he  reduced  to  poverty,  even  to  support  their  'best  gov- 
ernment in  the  world.''"  replied  Mrs.  Dumfries.  "I  feel  no  fear 
that  General  Nelson  will  either  hum  or  Shell  the  city.  He  would 
be  murdered  oil  the  streets  first  by  his  own  party." 

After  some  minutes  conversation  on  the  all  absorbing  theme  of 
the  war,  the  holies  rose  to  leave.  As  they  gained  the  hall  the 
doorbell  rung.  Evangeline  consulted  her  watch.  It  was  fifteen 
minutes  after  live.  Ste  ping  out  with  the  departing  visitors,  she 
untqred  the  shopman's  errand  hoy  at  the  door  hearing  the 
package  of  clothing.       ' 

"  This  is  for  me,  Flora,"  she  said,  lustily,  to  the.  young  girl 
beside  her.  "  Have  it  taken  to  your  room.  It  is  addressed  to 
you.  mm:  see.     I  will  explain  all  after  awhile." 

Flora  ordered  the  servant  to  receive  the  roll  and  carry  it  to  her 
room  up  si  airs.  The  two  girls  very  soon  followed.  Evangeline 
in  a  very  few  words  explained  her  plat)  to  Flora. 

"  1  know  you  will  not  betray  me,  Flora,"  she  said,  as  she  fin- 
ished her  hasty  recital.  •'  It  may  not  succeed,  and  should  it  not, 
you  vdn  readily  rprceive  the  necessity  of  the  most  profound  se- 
crecy, i'ai  that  package  away  where  it  will  meet  no  one's  e>e, 
not  even  your  mother's  Flora.  J  will  have  if.  taken  home  to-mor- 
row. 1  did  not  know  when  I  ordered  it  that  my  aunt  Would  he 
absent  when  it  was  sent,  or  I  should  have,  directed  it  carried  home. 
have  t,>  he  very  cautious;  one  misstep,  and  the  whole  mat- 
ter is  thwarted.  Oh,  you  cannot  tell  what  anxiety  1  feel.  I  am 
almost  wild,  Flora." 

"I  should  think  so,  Evangeline.  But.  how  1  regret  I  did  not 
propose  .something  of  this  kind  to  my  cousin.  Mot  her  gave  him 
money,  and  told  him  to  escape,  if  possible,  and  come  tons.  Per- 
haps If  the  two  could  have  concerted  together  it  wouhl  have  been 
better  for  both." 

"  And  they  may  yet  d  »  it.  Flora.  They  observed  that,  we  knew 
each  other.  This  will  doubtless  lead  to  a  friendly  conversation, 
which  may  result  in  some  understanding  on  their  part." 

"  I  sincerely  hope  for  this.  Evangie.  In  a  matter  of  escape  no 
prisoner  would  trust,  another  uo  ess  he  knew  him  well." 

"  Can'l  you  convey  your  cousin  a  note  privately,  Flora?" 

"This  is  impossible.  There  is  no  visiting  permitted  until  next 
Thursday,  and  your  friend  is  to  escape  on  Sunday,  didn't  you  tell 
me  V 

"Sunday  night;  but,  oh,  Flora,  if  he  should  fail!  Isn't  it 
dreadful   to  think  of!" 

••  He  would  he  ifi  a' worse  condition  than  now,  Evangie." 

••  Oil,' he  might  he  shot  and  killed.  You  do  not  know  how  dan- 
gerous it  is  to  attempt,  to  get,  out*.    These  Dutch  guards  are  so 


260  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 


V 


heartless.  They  don't  hesitate  a  moment  to  shoot  a  man  clown  if 
he  offends  them  in  the  least  thing.  How  many  have  been  shot  at 
Camp  Chase  for  mere  trivialities.  Oh,  1  shudder  to  think  if  Harry 
should  meet  this  sad  fate.  I  should  never  cease  to. upbraid  myself 
for  his  death  !"  and  the  excited  girl  threw  her  face  into  her  hands 
and  burst  into  tears. 

"  We  must  hope  for  better  things,  Evangie.  You  know  a  great, 
many  escape  unhurt,"  said  Flora,  cheerfully,  endeavoring  to  win 
her  young  friend  from  her  grief. 

Tea  came.  Evangelme  felt  no  disposition  to  eat.  Her  head 
ached  violently,  and  to  her  highly  nervous  agitation  had  succeeded 
a  most  depressing  languor.  Yet  she'  felt  she  must  make  her  ap- 
pearance at  table,  and  summoning  all  her  fortitude  and  assuming 
a  gaiety  entirely  foreign  to  her  feelings,  she  descended  the  stairs 
with  Flora  to  the  supper  room. 

The  topic  of  the  tea  table  chat  was,  of  course,  the  movement  of 
the  Southern  army  into  Kentucky,  and  the  preparations  for  de- 
fence. Various  were  the  opinions  expressed  relative  to  the  final 
issue  of  the  invasion,  each  one  being  biased  in  his  judgment  by 
desire  and  fear. 

While  sitting  at  the  table  the  bell  rang.  The  servant  soon  re- 
turned bearing  a  card,  which  she  handed  to  Evangeline.  The 
young  girl  looked  at  it  for  a  moment.  Her  color  rose  to  her  very 
'  temples,  and  her  hand  trembled  with  agitation.  She  appeared 
confused,  irresolute.  Turning  to  the  servant,  she  said  in  a  low 
tone,  "Tell  the  gentleman  I  am  at  tea." 

The  girl  bowed  and  bore  the  message  to  the  parlor. 

Evangeline  sat  and  sipped  her  tea,  joining  in  the  conversation 
whenever  it  seemed  necessary  for  her  to  do  so;  but  her  manner 
was  constrained,  and  her  words  devoid  of  interest.  She  plead 
headache  for  her  want  of  life  and  animation,  and  Mrs.  Ludlow  in- 
sisted she  should  take  a  second  cup  of  tea,  which,  however,  she 
declined,  remarking,  "  that  tea  did  not  often  benefit  her  headache." 

Excusing  herself  before  the  family  arose,  she  hastened  to  the 
room  alone,  and  taking  a  pencil  from  her  pocket,  wrote  a  few 
words  hurriedly  on  the  card,  and  laid  it  on  the  stand  beside  her 
to  await  the  coming  of  a  servant  to  bear  it  to  the  parlor.  Then, 
as  if  suddenly  recollecting  the  note  which  Emily  had  found  in 
the  hall  at  home  and  handed  her,  she  drew  it  forth  and  approached 
the  burner  to  read  it.  In  doing  so  she  passed  the  mirror.  Cast- 
ing a  glance  into  it,  she  started  back  at  her  flushed  and  wild  ap- 
pearance. 

"  Ao  wonder  the  children  at  the  supper  table  stared  at  me  so," 
she  said,  as  she  took  a  second  look.  "  Really  the  Witch  of  Endor 
could  not  have  appeared  more  frightful  !" 

Standing  beneath  the  gas  light,  she  held  the.  missive  in  her 
hand,  as  if  uncertain  whether  or  not  to  read  it.  Opening  it  after 
a  minute,  she  glanced  over  its  contents.  She  saw  in  the  second 
line  her  name,  and  just  below  it  Harry  Roberts. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  261 

"  It  concerns  me,  and  Providence  has  thrown/  it  in  my  way.  I 
will  read  it!"  and  seating  herself  on  the  sofa,  she  ran  rapidly  over 
the  iirst  page. 

"The  wretch'''  she  exclaimed  to  herself,  "does  he  call  this 
love?  No,  no!  he  shall  never  have  the  satisfaction  of  executing 
his  low,  base  threat.  I  will  release.  Harry,  or  die  in  the  effort  1 
But,  lie  his— never,  never !  I  shall  neither  he  threatened,  forced 
or  cajoled  into  marrying  a  man  whom  I  detest.  How  strange  that 
I  should  ever  have  fancied  I  loved  this  coarse,  heartless  man — 
this  man  who  seems  bent  on  my  destruction,  merely  to  gratify  his 
pique.  He  shall  never  have  to  boast  that  he  conquered  Evange- 
line Lenoir  !"  she  said  as  she  arched  her  neck,  and  cast  a  look  of 
contemptuous  defiance  on  the  sheet  she  held  in  her  hand.  Ah,  ha! 
a  very  fine  plan,  indeed!"  she  ^claimed,  curling  her  lip  in  bitter 
scorn,  as  she  read  the  second  page.  «'  He  may  succeed  'in  put- 
ting Harry  Roberts  out  of  the  way,''  but  never  in  'leading  the 
proud  girl  to  the  altar.'  " 

She  read  the  epistle  a  second  time  carefully,  then  folded  it  in  the 
envelope.-  "A  very  dishonorable  act  under  other  circumstances, 
but  in  me  excusable  note.  Thank  God  r  I  know  his  plans,  they 
shall  be  thwarted.     He  cannot,  shall  not  succeed." 

Stepping. to  the  stand,  she  was  about  to  add  something  to  her 
reply.  She  stood  thoughtful  for  a  moment ;  then,  putting  the  pen- 
cil back  into  her  pocket,  she  threw  the  letter  on  the  stand  with  the 
card. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  servant  entered  the  room  hearing  a  pitcher 
of  water. 

■  "Girl,  take  that  note  and  card  to  the  young  gentleman  in  the 
parlor,  and  then  return  and  let  me  know  what  he  says,"  she  added, 
as  the  servant,  was  leaving  the  room. 

"The  young  gentleman  didn't  say  anything  miss,"  said  the  girl, 
opening  the  door  and  peeping  in.  "  He  looked  very  mad  ma'am, 
when  he  read  the  note,  and  took  his  hat  and  went  out." 

"  Very  well,  girl,  where,  is  Miss  Flora  ?'' 

"In  the  parlor,  ma'am.  She  told  me  to  tell  you  to  excuse  her; 
an  old  friend  had  called  to  see  her,  and  she  would  be  in  the  parlor 
sometime." 

"  It  is  a'l  perfectly  right.  Tell  Miss  Flora  I  would  prefer  to  be 
alone,  my  head  aches  so." 

The  girl  passed  out,  closing  the  door  behind  her.  Evangeline 
threw  herself  into  the  large  arm  chair  that  stood  beside  her,  and 
burying  her  face  in  her  hands  wept  aloud. 

Oh,  the  agony,  the  utter  desolateness  of  that  moment !  There 
are  times  in  the  history  of  every  heart  when  the  sorrows  of  life 
crush  out  for  a  time  every  hope,  every  desire.  How  wild  and 
meaningless  existence  then  seems!  We  shrink  from  the  very 
thought  of  our  own  being,  and  unless  the  soul  can  lift  the  eye  of 
faith  to  the  source  whence*  cometh  all  consolation.it  sinks  into  the 


262  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

dread  wish  for  annihilation.     Life  !  strange, enigmatical  life!    who 
can  fathom  thy  myseries? 

•Evangeline  wept  and  wept.  The  fountain  of  tears  was  unsealed 
and  gushed  forth  in  unceasing  torrents.  No  power  of  will  could 
check  them.  Sobbing, -she  threw  herself  on  the  sofa,  and  in  a 
paroxysm  of  anguish  lay  like  one  bereft  of  reason.  Her  brain 
burnt  as  if  with  fire,  and  her  heart  throbbed  almost* to  bursting, 
She  clasped  her  hands  despairingly,  and  looked  up  as  if  imploring 
aid. 

"  Oh,  God  pity  me  !"  she  exclaimed,  •'  pity  me,  pity  me,  and 
bring  relief  to  my  poor  breaking  heart!" 

A  half  hour  passed.  Evangeline  was  still  weeping.  Her  sobs 
and  moans,  so  low  and  piteous,  were'^ad  to  hear.  Flora  Richey 
entered  the  room.  Going  to  the  sofa,  she  threw  her  arms  around 
Ihe  prostrate  form  and  said,  soothingly,  ",Do  not  weep  so,  Evangie. 
It  will  come  all  right." 

The  young  girl  opened  her  eyes  and  put.  out  her  arms  to  clasp 
the  neck  of  her  friend,  hut  they  fell  powerless  at  her  side,  and  the 
large. black  orbs  closed  again,  while  her  whole  countenance  took 
upon  it.  a  look  of  unutterable  woe. 

Flora  bathed  the  hot.  brow  and  chafed  the  cold  hands,  and  pour- 
ed into  the  distracted  ear,  tender,  loving  words.  But  many  an 
hour  passed  before  the  tried  heart  found  peace  in  sleep. 

Friday  and  Saturday  were  days  of  restless  anxiety,  and  conflict- 
ing doubts  and  ho^es.  On  Friday  night,  Mr.  Terrant  returned 
from  Indianapolis,  and  the  vocation  that  Evangeline  had  assumed, 
that  of  housekeeper,  gave  her  employment  which  served  measura- 
bly to  win  her  from  her  trouble.  Young  Lasley  did  not  call  again 
during  the  time.  Evangeline  hoped  that  her  note  had  convinced 
him  that  his  visits  were  no  longer  acceptable. 

Sabbath  morning  came.  Evangeline  prepared  for  church.  Her 
uncle  was  to  accompany  her.  She  was  donning  her  bonnet  and 
paletot,  when  the  door-bell  rang  violently.  "  Who  can  that  be  V 
she  said,  as  she  sprang  to  the  window  to  look  out.  She  could  not 
discern  who  it  was,  but  she  could  perceive  it  was  a  man.  Her 
heart  misgave  her.  Breathlessly  she  awaited  the  servant's  ap- 
proach. 

"Mr.  Lasley  is  in  the  parlor,  Miss  Vangie.  .  Called  to  see  if 
you  are  going  to  church  this  morning." 

"  Tell  Mr.  Lasley, I  have  company,  Emily,  and  he  must  excuse 
me." 

"  Has  he  left,  Emily  V  she  asked  of  the  servant,  who  returned 
to  announce  that  the  carriage  was  at  the  door. 
•  '.'  No,  mam  ;  he  says  he'll  go  with  master." 

"  Go  and  tell  him,  Emily,  that  your  master  is  going  with  me  in 
the  carriage.  I  have  borne  this  insolence  long  enough,"  she  said, 
passionately,  to  herself.  "  J  will  bear  it  no  longer.  He  cannot  be 
insulted.     He  is  determined  to  have  hia  own  way  in  sujj  matter, 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  2u3 

and  make  m.e  yield,  in  order  hat  he  may  show  his  power  But  if 
he'bas  governed  his  old  auDt  all  i tie  days  of  his  life,  he  shall  not 
govern  me.  If  he  wishes  to  go  w:;i;  my  uncle,  he  can  do  so,  but 
lie  shall  not  go  with  me." 

••  What  does  lie  say  now,  Emily  ?" 

"He  didn't  say  anything,  Miss  Vangie." 

"  And  did  he  leave  V 

"  No,  mam  ;   he  is  still  sitting  in  the  parlor." 

"  And  where  is  my  uncle  !" 

"In  -his  room,  mam.  Hie  dpesn't  know  Mr.  Lasley  is  in  the 
parlor." 

"  What  shall  I  do  .'"'  she  asked  herself,  perplexed  at.  lier  disa- 
greeable position.  "If  1  decline  going,  uncle  will  thiirfe  it  so 
strange;  and  I  cannot  go  with  this  m 

fcjhe  bowed  her  head  in  her  hand  as  she  s;  -  bureau,  and 

thought  for  a  moment.      Then,  rapidly  descending  the  stairway, 

she    knocked    at    her  uncle's  door.      In  answer   to  Mr.  Terrain's 

a  entered,  and.  approaching  the  window  where  her 

uncle  was  standing,  said  : 

"  Uncle,  Mr.  Lasley  is  in  the  parlor — came  to  go  with  me  to 
church.     What  shall  I  do  .'" 

'•  Go,  child:   of  course  you  could  not  refuse,  could  you  V 

"  But,  uncle,  I  do  not.  wish  to  do  s ).     Von  know  persons 
talk  so  much  when  a  young  lady  is    *-<-n  with  a  gentleman  at 
church 'in  the  forenoon."     And  Evangeline,  despite  herself,  blush- 
ed d.-eply. 

"  uh,  well,  child,''  said  tiie  indulgent  uncle,  "  if  you  do  not 
Wish  to  go  with  young  Lasley,  don't  doit;  but  I  can't  see  why 
you  don't.  Bui  you  women  are  strange  creatures,  anyhow.  How- 
ever, he  can  walk  with  me,  and  yon  can  go  in  the  carriage." 

"That,  is  the  very  plan,  uncle!  Please  go  in  the  parlor  and 
take  hi  in  with  you.  .See  here,  I,  am  not  ready  to  go  just  now.  lie 
will  understand  it."  * 

The  unsuspecting  uncle  did  as  he  was  bid. 

"  Gylx  are  very  modest  creatures  any  how,  yon  know,  Mr.  Las- 
lev,,"  said  he  to  the  young  man,  after  explaining  the  matter  to  him 
as  delicately    as  he  could.     "All    right,    1    suppose ■;  the  sir.. 
creatures  must,  have  their    own    way.      No  accounting  for  their 
whims  " 

Lasley  bowed  assent,  brut  he  by  no  means  received  the  case  as 
did  his  more  elderly  friend.  Not  knowing,  however,  how  to  object 
to  the  proposition,  nor  to  refuse  the  polite  invitation  to  accompany 
Mr.  Terrain,  he  found  himself  reduced  to  the  extremity  of  seeming 
to  endorse  the  one  and  to  accept   the  other. 

Evangeline  waited  until  she  thought  the  gentlemen  had  reached 
the  church,  then  taking  the  carriage,  she  drove  round  for  Mary 
Lawrence,  whom  she  found  already  gone. 
After  services,  Evaugeliue  and  Mary  hastened  out  of  the  church 


264  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

so  as  to  avoid  observation,  and  drove  home  quite  in  advance  of 
Mr.  Terrant. 

"  I  do  wonder  if  he  will  return  witlKmy  uncle  ?"  said  Evange- 
line, as  the  two  girls  seated  themselves  in  the  carriage.  "  Look 
yonder,  Mary,  do — he  is  with  him,  and  I  wager  be  will  he  boid 
enough  to  come  and  take  dinner  with  us.  If  he  should,  what 
will  1  do  V 

"  Oh,  treat  him  with  freezing  politeness,  Evangeline." 

"  Politeness,  indeed  !  I  do  not  believe  I  could 'tolerate  his  pre- 
sence for  a  moment.  I  do  not  know  why  I  should  feel  such  utter 
dislike  to  one  whom  I,  so  short  a  time  ago,  fancied  1  admired  ; 
but,  Mary,  he  has  haunted  me  so — has  manifested  such  entire  des- 
titution of  all  noble  sentiment,  that  I  am  filled  with  disgust  when 
I  contemplate  his  character." 

The  two  girls  reached  home' and  entered  the  parlor  to  wait  for 
Mr.  Terrant.  In  a  -few  minutes  he  entered  the  room  alone,  and, 
bidding  Mary  good-day,  seated  himself  beside  her. 

"  Where  is  Mr.  Lasley,  Mr.  Terrant?"  asked  Mary,  smiling. 

"  Oh,  he  has  gone  to  the  hotel,  I  suppose.  Why,  girls,  how 
remiss  I  was.  I  did  not  think  to  invite  him  to  dine  with  us  to- 
day. He  remarked  to  me,  too,  that  he  would  call  this  evening  at 
four  o'clock." 

The  girls  exchanged  meaning  glances. 

"What  have  you  two  been  doing,  girls,  that  you  had  to  run 
away  from  church  so  hastily  to-day  'I  I  strove  to  overtake  you, 
and  this  caused  me  to  forget  to  ask  Mr.  Lasley  to  dinner.  You 
are  after  something  wrong,  Evangie,  child  ;  I  see  it  in  your  face. 
Haven't  you  a  guilty  conscience  on  some  subject  1  Come,  tell  me 
what  it  is  you  are  about.     Some  prank,  I'll  warrant." 

"  No  prank  in  the  world,  uncle,"  replied  the  young  girl,  blush- 
ing as  she  spoke. 

"  Something  is  going  on,  child,  with  regard  to  Lasley,  fiat  isn't 
right.  He  has  been  here  twice,  and  you  have  refused  to  see  him. 
Be  careful.     A  man  won't  bea*r  a  woman's  whims  always." 

"  But,  uncle,  I  was  so  busy  on  Thursday — how  could  I  see  any 
one  V 

"  And  then  this  morning,  Evangie — " 

;<  Well,  I  gave  you  my  reason,  uncle.  Now,  be  candid,  wasn't 
it  a  very  good  one  V 

"  Oh,'  modest  and  plausible  enough ;  but  if  your  aunt  Cecilia  had 
been  so  chary  when  we  were  courting,  we  should  never  have  been 
married,  I  can  tell  you,  child.  I. couldn't  have  stood  all  these 
new-fashioned  ideas  of  modesty — they  would  have  run  me  crazy." 

"  Oh,  but  times  have  changed  since  then,  Mr.  Terrant, — haven't 
they  ?"  remarked  Mary  Lawrence,  laughing,  as  she  rose  to  follow 
Evangeline  to  her  room. 

"  Yes,  yes  ;  and  for  the  worse,  Mary.     I'm  sure  of  that." 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  Mr.  Terrant,"  remonstrated  Mary,  as  she  turned 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  265 

in  the  doorway  to  reply.     "  You  know  this  is  an  age  of  improve- 
ment in  all  things." 

"  Well,  well,  may  be  so.  You  women  will  always  have  things 
your  own  way,"  said  Mr.  Terrain,  bowing  deferentially.  Man- 
returned  the  bow  with  a  most  bewitching  smile  on  her  sweet,  sad 
face,  and  passed  with  Evangeline  up  the  stairway. 

"I  am  going  out  with  Mary  awhile  this  evening,"  said  Evange- . 
line  to  her  uncle,  as  they  returned  tu  the  parlor  after  dinner.    "You 
will  wish  to  take  your  siesta,  and  should  Mr.  Lasley  come  before  I 
return — but  of  course  he  will  not-^tell  Emily  to  inform  him  where 
I  have  gone,  and  he  can  call  at  Mrs.  Purdy's  and  see  us  both." 

"Oh,  Yangie,  child  !  this  will  not  do.  Lasley  will  feel  himself 
insulted.  You  will  lose  him,  child,  I  tell  you  you  will.  Better 
stay  at  home  till  he  comes,  and  then  he. can  walk  round  with  you, 
girls." 

"  Oh,  uncle,  but  we  may  have  to  wait,  all  the  evening.  They 
dine  very  late  at  the  hotel,  and  then  Mr.  Lasley  will  have  to  enjoy 
a  cigar,  and  after  this  a  nap  ;  so  you  see  he  is  not  likely  to  be 
around  before  dark.  And  even  if  he  should  come  earlier,  it  is  a 
pleasant  little  walk  round  to  Mrs.  Purdy's  ;  and  1  know  he  wishes 
to  see  Mary,  any  how.  Moreover,  uncle,  1  made  this  engagement, 
with  Mary  to  meet  a  friend  of  ours  several  days  ago." 

"  And  I  cannot  well  release  Evangie,  Mr.  Terrain,  I  am  sure 
Mr.  Lasley  will  excuse  us  for  not  awaiting  his  arrival,  when  he  is 
made  to  understand  the  circumstances." 

"  Well,  well,  you  girls  will  have  everything  your  own  way.  No 
use  for  me  to  interfere  in  Lasley's  behalf.  If  lie  should  come — 
and  he  told  me  he  would — 1  shall  have  to  seud  him  round  to  see 
you."  . 

"  Do,  Mr.  Terrant,  if  you  please ;  you  will  confer  a  favor  on 
us." 

"And,  uncle,  should  I  fail  to  be  back  at  ten,  won't  you  tell 
Henry  to  drive  round  for  us  .'  We  may  not  have  any  company  to 
church  to-night." 

"  Better  tell,  Pauline,  child.  You  know  I  am  so  forgetful  about 
these  little  matters." 

Evangeline  rung  the  bell,  gave  Pauline  the  necessary  instruc- 
tions, then  bidding  her  uncle  good  evening,  set  out  with  Mary 
Lawrence  for  Mrs.  Purdy's. 

Eifteen  minutes  to  four.  The  two  young  girls,  deeply  veiled, 
descended  the  front  steps  to  the  street,  and  directed  their  way  to 
the  prison.  As  they  walked  rapidly  along,  they  encountered 
•  several  of  their  friends,  but  they  passed  them  by  without  recogni- 
tion, lest  they  should  lie  betrayed.  Street  after  street  was  quickly- 
% passed,  the  tu'o  girls  scarcely  daring  to  interchange  a  word.  Just 
as  they  were  turning  the  comer  of  Third  and  Green,  they  met  Mr. 
Roberts  in  front  of  the  Custom  House,  lie  paused  as  if  about  to 
speak.     Evangeline  trembled  as  she  felt  herself  recognized ;  but 


26  6  RAIDS  AXD  KOMANCE 

the  gentleman,  after  cdsfing  his  eye  vacantly   up  and  down  the 
pavement,  proceeded  on  his  way. 

"How  sad  and  disturbed  Mr.  Huberts  looks,"  whispered  Mary, 
to  her  friend. 

"I  am  afraid  something  lias  befallen  Harry,"  was  the  tremulous 
reply  of  Evangeline. 

"  I  wonder,'  she  said,  after  a  short  pause,  "if  he  has  been  to 
the  prison.  May  be  Harry  is  sick — has  gone  away  !"  she  added 
•slowly,  as  if  afraid  to  give  voice  to  her  own  apprehension.. 

A  few  minutes'  more,  and  the  two'  had  reached  the  prison. — 
Evangeline  timidly  raised  her  thick  veil,  and  looked  hurriedly  up 
and  down  Green,,  and  in  and  out  Fifth  street.  But,  few  persons 
were  passing.  The  guard  kept  watch  in  front  of  the  great  "closed 
gates  that  opened  on  Green.  A  solitary  sentinel  paced  back  and 
forth  on  Fifth  street,  'He  was  a  youth,  pleasant,  friendly  and  gen- 
teel in  his  bearing.  After  taking  this  furtive  survey,  Evangeline 
cast  her  eye  up  to  the  designated  window.  There  stood  a  prisoner. 
Was  it  Roberts  .'  She  looked  again.  The  prisoner,  bowed,  and 
she  knew  it  was  Harry  ! 

"  Mary,  you  cross  the  street  and  engage  the  sentinel. in  conver- 
sation, while  I  stand  here  to  receive  the  signal.  Ask  him  any- 
thing. Mary,  anything — whether  the  prisoners  receive  company, 
and  when;  if  they  behave  themselves  pretty  well.  You  know 
what  to  do,  Mary.  Go,  go — we  will  arouse  suspicion  if  we  remain 
longer  here." 

Mary  quickly  crossed  over,  and  throwing  aside  the  thick  mourn- 
ing veil,  approached  towards  the  guard.  She  paused  as  soon  as 
she  found  she  had  attracted  his  attention.  This  she  did  that  he; 
in  advancing  to  meet  her,  might  leave  Evangeline  standing  on  the 
opposite  side,  at  his  back.  The  man  raised  his  cap  as  his  eye  fell 
on  the  graceful  form  and  beautiful  face  of  the  young  girl  before 
him.  Mary  bowed  and  spoke  pleasantly  but  modestly,  and  com- 
menced to  question  him  as  Evangeline  had  suggested. 

Evangeline  stepped  forward  so  as  to  place  herself  directly  in 
front  of>  the  window  where  the  prisoner  stood.  She  waved  her 
handkerchief  and  strained  her  eyes  for  the  answering  signal.  A 
moment  passed.  Oh,  what  a  moment  of  •suspense  that  was  to  the 
expectant  heart  of  the  young  girl,  as  she  stood  there  gazing  up- 
wards towards  that  window!  It  came.  The  prisoner's  right,  hand 
was  raised,  placed  on  his  brow1*  then  drawn  slowly  across  his  face, 
and  rested  on  his  shoulder.  It  was  the  indication  of  success  that 
Evangeline  had  proposed. 

She  stood  as  one  bewildered,  stupified,  under  the  rush  of  her 
wild  emotion.  Harry  would  be  free — a  few  short  hours  would  re- 
store him  to  liberty  and  to  her!  The  thought  was  intoxicating! 
Yet  another  sign  was  needed — the  hour  must  be  designated.  She 
raised  and  gently  waved  it  a  second  time.  The  prisoner  bowed 
understanding!)'.     Evangeline  sent  up  another  eager,  fixed  look. 


i 


OF  MOKGAX  AXD  HIS  MEN.  967 

The  left  hand  was  raised,  then  slowly  lowered.  This  gesture  was 
repeated  eight  times.  'Nine  o'clock,''  said  Evangeline,  to  herself. 
_Then  raising  her  left  hand  she  repeated  tl  e  action  of  the  pris<  i  er 
nine  times.  As  her  left  hand  fell  the  last  time,  the  prisoner  bowed 
twiA  and  turned  from  the  window.  It  was  the  work  of  bat  a 
minute,  and  yet  what  mighty  results  to  these  two  young,  1. 
hung  on  its  fleeting  moments! 

"•Thank  God — thank  (rod!"  exclaimed  Evangeline,  "Harry 
will  be  safe  !"  no  more,  but  turm  d  to  look  for  Mary,  A> 

she  did  so,  shfe  encountered  Captain  l?re»d.  Morton.  She  had  for- 
gotten to  lnwer  her  veil,  and  was  recognized.  She  started  back! 
as  if  she  had  met  a  spectre.  The  Captain  bowed  politely,  and 
passed  en. 

"Mary!*'  she  called,  unconscious  of  what  she  said.  ".Mary, 
Man  !   do  come  01 

i  rea  ly"  to  sink  under  her  agitation.  Had  she  been  dis- 
covered by  this  Federal  officer!  li  And,  if  SO,  what 
would  be  the  result  .'  But  Harry  is  sate,  she  said.  Thank, <b>d 
lie  is  not  implicated,  and,  as  regards  myself.  I  defy  Fred.  .Morton 
and  all  the  Yankee  hosts.     They  won't  dare  lo  annoy  me. 

Mary  responded  to  her  call  and  came  tripping  across  (he  street, 
delighted  thai  she  had  acted  her  part  so  well  in  the  fearful  drama. 
.Jus;  as  she  reached  the  pavement  on  which  Evangeline  was  stand- 
ing, she  met  young  Morton  face  to  face.  She  bowed  coldly,  and, 
4as  he  Walked  stiffly  by,  Mary  thought  she  saw  on  Ids  face  a  sinister 
smile.  It  was  the  first  time  they  had  met  in  weeks.  She  had  per- 
sistently avoided  him  on  all  occasions,  which  avoidance  he  had 
deeply  felt.  He' loved  her  devotedly,  hopelessly  he  knew,  yet  be 
could  not  conquer  his  affection.  And  be  felt  a»corxstan<  pique  that 
he  should  at.  all  times  be  the  recipient  of  marked  neglect. 

"  Will  Harry  gefcout,  Evangeline  >.  but  I  need  not  ask,  I  read 
his  escape  in  your  face." 

"  Yes,  yes,  Mary,  he  will  soon  be  free.  The  signals  were  all 
right,  and  to-night  at  nine  o'clock  he  will  meet  me  at  the  First 
Presbyterian  Church." 

"(Hi,  Evangeline,  we  are  betrayed,  betrayed!"  exclaimed  .Mary, 
grasping  the  arm  of  her  young  frieni^  "  1  am  sure  we  are.  Fred. 
.Morton  has  seen  it  all — knows  it  alrjl  We  have  nothing  to  hope." 

"  Why  do  von  think  so,  Mary  I     Did  you  see  him  observing 
• 

"Oh.no;  1  was  b:is\  talking  to  the  gifcrd.  But  I  read  it  in 
the  expression  of  his  facias  he  passed  me.  His  look  was  full  of 
significance  and  malignity." 

"  You  are  excited,  Mary,"  replied  Evangeline,  endeavoring  to 
appear  calm.     "  I  am  confident  young  Morion  could  .  seen 

any  one  but.  me.  Harry  had  left  the  window  before  he  came  up. 
You  were  on  the  opposite  side  of  t lie  street,  and  what  could  be 
suspect  from  seeing  me  standing  gazing  up  at  the  prison  ?" 


268  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

"Are  you  sure,  Evangeline,  that  Morton  did  not  see  you? 
Might  he  not  have  been  where  he  observed  all  your  movements  V 

"  I  am  confident,  Mary,  that  he  did  not.  I  heard  him  approach- 
ing me  from  Walnut  street,  and  I  feel  assured  he  saw  only  me. 
Don't  be  alarmed.  You  and  Harry  are  safe.  If  he  desireS|to 
make  mischief,  I  only  am  involved,  and  I  bid  him  defiance.  ,1  am 
not  one  whit  afraid  of  all  the  Lincolnites  in  creation." 

"  You  are  protected,  Evangeline,  by  your  Union  friends.  I  am 
so  unprotected.  You  cannot  realize  what  it  is  to  know  you  are 
alone  without  a  friend  to  defend  you.  Pa  is  gone.  John  is  gone, 
and  I  am  alone,  isolated.  I  have  no  one  to  look  to,  to  shield  me 
from  the  violence  of  a  foe — no  one,  no  one,"  and  Mary  sighed  as 
if  her  heart  were  breaking.  "  Oh,  that  Pa  would  come  !  No,  he 
cannot,  dare  not  do  this,  but  that  he  would  send  some  one  to  take 
me  from  this,  horrid  place  !" 

"  Be  patient,  Mary  ;  when  Harry  gets  out  we  will  all  go  beyond 
Yankee  lines'  and  Yankee  rule,  and.  be  free  and  happy.  I  am  al- 
most wild  with  delight  at  the  thought  that  he  will  so  soon  be  free. 
Do  you  think  there  is  any  possibility,  Mary,  that  he  will  be  dis- 
covered ?" 

"  He  is  to  bribe  the  guard,  is  he  not  V 

"  Yes,  that  is  the  plan,  and  the  matter  is  already  arranged  be- 
tween them." 

v  He  may  be  betrayed.  There  is  a  possibility  of  this.  A  man 
who  will  suffer  himself  to  be  bribed  will  betray,  if  he  can  find  it 
to  his  interest  to  do  so.     But  let  us  hope  this  may  not.  be." 

"  Oh,  I  do  not  fear>  Mary.  Harry  is  very  shrewd,  and  would 
not  allow  himself  to  be  imposed  upon.  But  I  must  secure  a  hack 
to  take  him  out  of  the  city," 

"  Better  leave  his  escape  from  Louisville  to  his  own  manage- 
ment. He  has  learned  to  avoid  detection,  and  he  will  be  much 
safer  on  foot  than  in  a  carriage." 

The  girls  returned  to  Mrs.  Purdy's  to  await  the  appointed  hour. 
To  their  great  delight  they  found  that  Lasley  was  not  in,  nor  had 
he  called. 


"And  did  you  reach  the  city,  cousin  William  1" 

"  No,  it  was  impossible.  They  would  not  allow  me  to  pass 
their  lines." 

"  Who  would  not  ?"    # 

"  The  Confederate  pickets  at  Shelbyville.  I  told  them  the  case, 
and  plead  with  them  to  let  me  go,  but  it  was  all  in  vain.  Their 
orders  were  to  permit  no  one  to  go  out  of  their  lines,  and  they  could 
not  disobey,  they  said." 

"Oh,  my  poor  child!"  said  Mr.  Lawrence,  as  he  bowed  his 
head  and  heaved  a  deep  sigh.  "  What  will  become  of  heft-  I 
know  that  she  is  almost  frantic  with  grief.  Oh,  that  I  could  but 
get  her  here."    He  buried  his  face  in  his  hands,  and  sat  for  some 


OF  MORGAN  -AND  HIS  MEN.  2<i9 

minutes  engaged  in  thought.  Looking  up  at  the  young  man  before 
him,  lie  said :  "  Do  you  think  you  could  get  through  by  way  of 
Bardstown,  cousin  William?" 

"  I  do  not  know.  The  effort  might  be  made.  It  might  prove 
successful." 

"  Will  you  try  ?" 

"  Most  certainly,  if  you  desire  it." 

"  Oh,  I  should  be  roost  thankful  if  you  would  make  the  attempt. 
Ir  may  succeed.  I  will  remunerate  you  to  any  extent.  I  would 
willingly  sacrifice  all  I  have  to  get  my  child.  It  was  folly  in  me 
to  leave  her,  hut  I  felt  so  sure  I  should  get  hack  to  Louisville  and 
bring  her  out  myself." 

■•  And  this  you  mav  vet  do.  ,  The  Confederates  may  take  the 
city." 

"  I  think  not.  There  seems  hut  li£lc  promise  of  it  to  me.  In- 
deed, I  am  very  doubtful  about  their  remaining  long  in  the  State. 
But  Bragg's  force  and  success  must  determine  that.  Tlift  army 
of  General  Smith's  will  sopn  have  to  leave  this  point  unless  rein- 
forced. But  when  can  you  set  out  again  for  Louisvijle  by  way  of 
Ban! st own  >." 

"  Just  as  soon  as  I  can  procure  a  pass,  sir." 

"This  is  Thursday.  If  you  do  not  succeed  you  will  be  back 
by  Sunday,  I  suppose." 

"Oh,  yes,  that  will  be  ample  time  to  go  and  return." 

"If  possible, cousin  William,  bring  my  daughter.  God  grant 
you  may  be  able  to  do  SO." 

The  father  spoke  earnestly.  His  grief-marked  face  wore  an  ex- 
pression of  unusual  sadness. 

"  1  will  accomplish  the  object  of  my  mission,  if  possible,  sir." 

"  Take  this  letter  to  Mary,  it  will  tell  her  what,  to  do;  and  here 
is  a  purse,  hand  it  to  her,  she  may  need  it." 

The  young  man  hade  his  friend  farewell,  and.  leaving  the  hotel, 
proceeded  to  the  stable,  where  procuring  a  horse  and  buggy,  be 
set  out  at  once  to  endeavor  to  reach  Louisville. 

Two  days  passed,  days  of  anxious  suspense  to  Mr.  Lawrence, 
who,  in  the  uncertainty  of  his  daughter's  fate,  was  the  prey  of 
direful  apprehension  and  alarm. 

Sunday  evening  came.  It  was  the  21st  of  September.  Gen. 
Ifragg  having  defeated  the  enemy  entrenched  at  Mumfordsville, 
capturing  four  thousand  prisoners,  and  heavy  stores,  was  advancil  g 
towards  Louisville.  The  news  of  his  successful  march  had 
reached  Lexington,  and  every  Southern  heart  was  heating  high 
wiih  gratitadfe  and  hope.  It  looked  as  if  Kentucky  was,  at 
last,  to  he  redeemed  from  the  hand  of  Northern  rule,  and  placed 
where  she  should  be,  under  the  Government  of  the  Confederate 
States.  General  Kirby  Smith's  army  had  received  many  acces- 
sions, and  throughout  that  portion  of  the  State  regiments  were  be- 
ing organized  for  the  Southern  army.    Every  city,  town,  village 


I 

270  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

and  hamlet  in  the  State  was  the  scene  of  the  wildest  excitement. 
The  two  parties,  Southern  and  Northern,  which  every  where  ex- 
isted in  antagonism,  Served  by  conflicting  opinions  and  desires  to 
|  the  flame  of  agitation  I. rightly  burning.  It  was  a  lime  of 
comparative  liberty  for  Southern  men,  a  season  for  fear  and  trem- 
bling with  the- Nofl hern  party.  Everything -was  forgotten  in  the 
one  theme — that  of  the  advance  of  the.  Confederate  army. 
I  Hi'.  I. aw rii ice  was  seated  in  his  room  at  the  hotel  gloomy  and 
sad,  under  the  weight  of  his  own  personal  sorrows,  which  neither 
his  faith  in  God's  providence  npr  the  consolation  of.  divine  truth, 
so  clearly  set  forth  by  the  minister  of  God  in  his  morning  discourse 
could  remove,  lie  was  desolate. amid  the  throng — grief-laden, 
though  surrounded  by  the  rushing  whirl  of  stormy  events.  His 
only  son,  exposed  to  the  calamities  and  hardships  of  war,  his  only 
hte'i  separated  from  bun  within  t he enemy\s power,  unprotected 
and  alone.  His  thoughts  were  away  with  her,  and  he  was  endea- 
jronng'  ib  paint  to  himself  what  she  was  doing  this  beautiful  'Sab- 
bath evcuing.  Aim.  then  he  pictured  to  himself  the  happiness  of 
the  meeting  with  her,  which  he  hoped   wouid  not  belong  deferred. 

The  sunlight  came  in  through  the  uncurtained  window,  and  fell 
in  rich. go  den  glory  over  the  floor.  lis  radiant  light  reminded  him 
of  the  beauty  of  that  heavenly  home,'  where  dwelt  amid  the  hosts 
of  the  redeemed  the  spirit  of  his  lost,  wife,  and  his  soul  lifted  its 
aspirations  to  that,  celestial  oily  which  ncodcth  not  the  light  of  a 
caudle,  nor  yet  of  the  sun,  for  the  Lord  God  giveth  it  light,  and  His 
redeemed  piles,  clothed  in  shining  garments,  worship  before  the 
great.  While  Throne,  whereon  sits  the  Eternal  Father.  It  was 
an  hour  of  soul-communion  with  the  stricken  father.  To  him  the 
joy  of  the  world  had  become  dimmed — life  had  lost  its  charms — 
the  earth  its  false  glare  and  baneful  influence. 

The  old  man  look  up  his  bible  and  read,  and  as  he  read  the  tears 
streamed  down  his  face.  Yet,  while  he  wept,  his  soul  rejoiced, 
for  by  faith  he  laid  hold  on  the  promises  of  the  Gospel,  and  his 
spiritual  strength  was  renewed  even  amid  the  heart's  deep  sorrow- 
ing. After  reading  for  some  time  he  closed  the  hoik,  then  knelt, 
to  pray.  Long  and  fervently  did  he  supplicate  God's  mercy  and 
guidance,  and  earnestly  ask  submission  to  his  will.  Rising  lie  ap- 
proached the  window,  and  seating  himself,  looked  out  into  the  busy 
street  below. 

While  be  thus  sa^,  a  gentle  knock  was  heard  at  the  door.  He 
rose  and  opened  it. 

"  Unsuccessful  again,  cousin  William  ?."  said  Mr.  Lawrence, 
calmly,  but  in  alow,  deep  tone,  that  told  far  better  than  language 
could  have  done,  how  bitter  was  his  disappointment. 

The  youdg  man  bowed  assent,  and  moving  forward  to  the  seat 
designated  fur  him,  explained  the  cause  of  his  failure. 

"1  must  bear  it,  though  it  is  very  hard,"  said  Mr.  Lawrence,  re- 
suming his  seat  ntar  the  window.    "  If  I  knew  my  cLild  was  safe* 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  271 

T  would   ask  nothing  more.     But  I  have  heard  nothing  from  her 
since  I  left,  and  I  know  not  what  may  have  befallen  her." 

"Oh,  I  doubt  not  she  is  safe,  sir.  No  one  is  allowed  to  leave 
Louisville  now  Tor  this  portion  of  the  State,  and  letters  do  not 
coine  except  by  private  hand.  Yon  could  not  reasonably  hope  to 
hear  from  her  under  presenj  circa  Distances,  I  think.  I  sent  your 
letter  by  a  citizen  of  Louisville,  whom  I  met  on  my  way,  and  who 
will  go  in  to-morrow  or  the  next,  day." 

"  And  they  are  fortifying  the  cftv  and  have  placed  it  under  mar- 
tial law?" 

"  That  is  the  statement  of  all  who  seem  to  be  at  all  acquainted 
with  llie  present  position  of   affairs  there. " 

"And  where  is  General  Bragg,  m>-. 

"  Marching  on  from  Munifordsville  in  the  direction  of  Louisville. 
It  is  the  opinion  of  many  Union  men  that  he  will  certainly  take 
that  city  in  a  few  cays,  notwithstanding  their  fortifications  and  re- 
inforcements." 

"  1  should  he  most  happy  to  see  it,  but  I  am  by  no  means  san- 
guine. And  yet.  if  he  allows  the-m  a  foothold  they  will  in  their 
liirn   drive  him   South   again  " 

"  The  only  danger  J  see,  sir.  is  that  of  Hindi's  getting  to  Lou- 
isville, first.  Both  armies  are  striving  with  the.  Utmost  power  to' 
heal  the  oilier  in  this  closely   contested  race." 

'•  And  where  is  Buell,  now  V 

"  In  close  pursuit  of  Bragg,  it  is  said.     Only  a  day  belling  him." 

'•And  will  Central  Bragg  allow  himself *to  he  hemmed  in  by 
the  two  forces — the  one  at  Louisville  in  his  front  and  Bnell  in  his 
rear/  If  he  does,  he  will  show  himself  utterly  devoid  of  gener- 
alship, 1  think." 

"  1 1  is  said,  sir.  that  the  troops  at  Louisville  will  offer  no  re- 
sistance, hut  (all  hack  across  the  Ohio  river  at  Bragg's  approach." 

"Hut  even  then  he  would  he.  as  it  were,  flanked,  unless  Buell 
should  cross  the  liver  into  Indiana.  And  then  the  gunboats,  to- 
gether wiih  heavy  ordnance  placed  on  the  opposite  shore,  will  make 
iiis  position  in  Louisville  doubtful.  I  can  see  but  little-  hope — 
very  little  hope.  ' 

'•  A  lew  days,  sir,  Will  determine  the  issue.  Active  preparations 
are  being  made  by  the  Federals.  They  are  concentrating  large 
numbers  of  the  newly  enlisted  men  at  Jeffersonvflle  and  New  Al- 
bany, and  are  about  to  construct  pontoon  bridges  across  ihe  river 
at  Louisville,  1  suppose,  either  for  advance  or  retreat,  which  ever 
may  be  their  fortune." 

-Are  tiie  Southern  people  enthusiastic  in  the  portions  of  the 
State  where  yon  have  been  .'  ' 

"  Very,  indeed.     They  feel  the  permanent  occupation   of  Ken- 
by  the  Confederates  to  be   a  fixed  fact.     It  may  be  1   have 
caught  their  enthusiasm,     i   certainly  am  inclined  to  hope." 
"But  .should  the  Confederates  have  to  abandon  the  State,  wLat 


272  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

a  sad,  sad  thing  it  will  be  for  thousands  of  Southern  men,  who  will 
have  to  leave  their  homes,  their  wives  and  children,  and  exile 
themselves,  or  else  remain  to  be  imprisoned!  Oh,  if  I  but  had 
my  child  with  me,  I  should  feel  to  defy  every  fortune.  But  the 
thought  or  having  to  leave  her  behind  almost  breaks  my  heart.  I 
may  never  again  see  her,  and  she  may  fall  into  the  hands  of  the 
unsparing  foe." 

"  She  spoke  of  coming  out.  But  how  can  she  come  alone  and 
unprotected '?  I  would  go  for  her,  but  should  I  be  discovered  I 
would  be  immediately  senf  to  prison,  and  then  she  would  be  left 
without  any  hope.  Sad,  sad  fate  for  one  so  young  and  inexperi- 
enced !"  he  said,  while  his  whole  frame  heaved  with  the  pressure  of 
his  mental  distress. 

The  young  man  felt  it  was  unnecessary  to  attempt  consolation. 
He  looked  upon  his  relative  with  deep  sympathy.  After  some 
minutes  silence  ou  the  part  of  both,  Mr.  Stanford  proposed  a'walk 
to  the  encampment. 

While  this  conversation  was  taking  place  between  Mr.  Lawrence 
and  his  young  cousin,  Mary  and  Evangeline  was  standing  before 
the  prison,  carrying  out- the  bold  endeavor  of  Harry's  liberation. 

The  church  hell  rang.  Mary  and  Evangeline  put  on  their  bon- 
nets and  shawls. 

"Who  will  go  with  you  girls'?"  asked  Mrs.  Purdy,  as  the  two 
entered  the  parlor  ready  to  leave.  "  I  wish  I  were  well  enough  to 
accompany  you,  but  really  my  head  aches  two  severely.  It  would 
be  doing  myself  injustice  to  go  out  to-night.  There  is  Lewellen,  he 
can  escort  you.  You  will  feel  no  fear  with  him.  Come,  my  son, 
get  on  your  cap  and  go  with  the  young  ladies  to  church." 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  Mrs.  Purdy,  don't  make  Lewellen  go  out,  he  looks 
so  weary.  Uncle  will  send  the  carriage  for  us.  If  it  is  uot  at  the 
door,  it  will  be  there  in  a  few  minutes.  See,  girl,  if  it  has  not 
already  come?" 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  Mr.  Terrant's  carriage  has  been  here  for  some 
time." 

"  We  are  not  at  all  afraid  to  go  in  the  carriage  alone,  Mrs.  Pur- 
ely.    Henry  is  a  very  safe  driver,  and  the  horses  are  so  gentle." 

"Comeback  with  Mary,  Evangeline,  and  pass  the  night  with 
us." 

"I  shall  either  do  this  or  take  Mary  with  me.  You  know  aunty 
is  from  home  now,  and  I  do  not  remain  at  night  without  some 
company." 

The'two  young  ladies  bade  Mrs.  Purdy  good  evening,  and  get- 
ting into  the  carriage,  bade  the  driver  take  them  to  Dr.  Hoyt's 
church. 

"Shall  we  go  in,  Mary,  or  remain  in  the  carriage  until  nine?" 
asked  Evangeline.  "  I  do  not  know  wliat  is  best.  If  we  can  se- 
cure a  back  seat,  so  as  to  leave  unnoticed,  I  should  prefer  it  to 
staying  without.     Would  not  you  V 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  278 

"  Greatly  ;  but  then  we  must  avoid  observation.  Mr.  Plumber 
has  a  pew  in  the  back  of  the  church.  None  of  the  family  are  in 
town.     Shall  we  sit  in  that?" 

"Yes,  yes,  anywhere  to  be  secure  from  notice." 

Bidding  the  driver  remain  at  the  corner  of  the  street  until  the 
services  were  over,  the  two  girls  alighted  and  entered  the  church. 
They  found  themselves  early.  As  yet  but  few  persons  were 
seated,  and  the  gas  was  burning  at  half  light.  Quietly  they  made 
their  way  to  Mr.  Plumber's  pew,  where  seating  themselves,  they 
drew  down  their  veils,  so  as  almost  wholly  to  shut  out  the  view  of 
their  faces.  Family  by  family  the  congregation  came  in,  until 
the  building  was  pretty  nearly  filled.  The  gas  was  turned  on  to 
a  full  jet,  the  organ  pealed  forth  a  salutatory  as  the  minister  ap- 
peared in  the  pulpit,  and  services  commenced. 

Daring  the  singing,  the  prayer  and  the  rather  lengthy  sermon 
that  .succeeded  them,  Evangeline  and  Mary  remained  seated  like 
statues  draped  from  view.  They  dared  not  turn  their  faces  right 
nor  left,  lest  they  should  be  recognized  by  some  friend.  As  the 
minister  ooncluded  his  sermon.  Evangeline  quietly  drew  forth  her 
watch.  It  wanted  live  minuted  to  nine.  "We  will  go,"  she  said 
to   Mary. 

As  the  minister,  uplifting  his  hands,  said,  "  Let  us  pray,"  they 
arose  and  noiselessly  left  the  house. 

"  Oh,  Mary,  Mary,  if  Harry  should  not  come  ?"  said  Evangeline, 
as  she  nervously  handed  her  friend  into  the  carriage. 

"  Stay  just,  where  you  are,  Henry,  until  I  tell  you  to  leave, 
church  is  not  out  yet."  She  remained  standing  on  the  pavement 
holding  open  the  door  of  the  carriage,  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  dark, 
grim  form  of  the  prison  that  rose  up  before  her  view.  "Strange 
contrast,"  she  said,  "this  close  proximity  of  the  house  of  God, 
where  men  assemble  to  worship  Him  according  to  the  dictates  of 
their  own  conscience,  and  the  prison-house,  where  men  made  in 
J  lis  own  image  and  born  freemen  are  shutout  from  society,  abused, 
insulted,  merely  because  they  have  dared  to  exercise  their  reason 
and. express  their  convictions — dared  to  enjoy  this  right  that  God 
himself  has  bestowed  on  them,  and  which  all  liberal  governments 
guarantee  to  their  meanest  subjects.  What  a  sad  comment  upon 
mankind,  upon  the  passions  to  the  behests  of  which  he  yields  up 
conscience  and  judgment,  and  which,  like  the  brute  creation  he 
follows  as  his  guide!" 

"Mary,  Mary,"  she  said,  excitedly,  thrusting  her  head  into  the 
carriage,  "  some  one  approaches.  I  can't  see  him  distinctly,  but 
it  looks  like  Harry." 

"  Where,  where,  Evangeline  !"  replied  Mary,  springing  oat  and 
taking  position  beside  the  trembling  girl. 

"  Yonder.     Don't  you  see  somebody  in  the  dim  gas  light  coming 
this  way  ?     He  turneYl  from  Green  street.     Look  he  is  crossing. 
It  must  be  Harry.    Oh  Mary  !"  and  Evangeline  started  hastily 
18 


274  KAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

forward  to  meet  the  approaching  figure,  and  as  it  neared  the  pave- 
ment she  ejaculated,  "Harry,  Harry ?" 

The  man  suddenly  stopped,  raised  his  head  and  looked  inquir- 
ingly round.  Evangeline  advanced  to  the  rear  of  the  carriage, 
and  said  more  softly  than  at  first  : 

"  Harry,  Harry,  is  that  you?" 

Again  the  figure  paused,  and  peered  more  earnestly  in  the  direc- 
tion from  whence  the  sound  proceeded.  Discovering  in  the  dim 
light  only  a  female  figure  near  the  carriage  in  front  of  him,  he 
lowered  his  head  and  passed  quickly  on. 

Evangeline  sprang  to  the  door  step  and  rushed  into  the  carriage, 
exclaiming,  "  It  was  not  Harry,  Mary.  Who  could  it  have  been  ? 
I  hope  he  did  not  know  me.'' 

Her  voice  was  harsh,  her  manner  bewildered  and  agitated.  She 
trembled  in  every  limb,  her  heart  beat  audibly.  The  clock  of  the 
Cathedral  sounded  out  the  hour  of  nine. 

"  Be  still,  Evangeline,  be  composed.  You  have  nothing  to  fear. 
The  man  evidently  did  not  recognize  you,  or  he  would  have  made 
himself  known.  I  do  not  suppose  he  haard  your  words — only  your 
voice  arrested  his  attention.     Be  calm,  we  have  nothing  to  fear." 

"But  if  Harry  should  not  come?  It  is  nine — the  hour — and  he 
is  not  here.  ,  I  shall  dier  Mary,  if  I  am  disappointed.  It  is  my 
only  hope  in  life.  For  days  I  have  lived  on  the  expectation  of 
this  moment.     And  now,  if  he  should  not  come — " 

Just  then  the  organ  pealed  forth  its  deep,  bass  notes.  Evange- 
line threw  her  arms  around  her  friend  and  hid  her  face  on  her 
bosom.  "Not  come — not  come!  Oh,  how  can  I  bear  it  ?"  and 
she  burst  into  tears. 

"  You  must  be  calm*,  Evangeliue.  You  will  betray  us,  if  you 
weep  that  way.  It  is  not  too  late.  Harry's  plans  may  have  been 
delayed.     I  shall  look  yet  half  an  hour  for  him." 

"  Oh,  will  you — do  you,  Mary  ?"  she  sobbed,  starting  up  and 
gazing  into  the  sweet  face  pending  over  her,  as  if  a  ray  of  hope 
altogether  unlocked  for  had  that  instant  found  lodgment  in  her 
bosom.  "  Do  you  really  think,  Mary,  that  this  is  true — Harry  is 
always  so  punctual  ?" 

"  But,  Evangeline,  Harry  is  now  dependent  on  circumstances 
which  he  cannot  master  to  suit  his  will  and  desires.  It  may  be  he 
is  watched,  or  some  of  the  officers  of  the  prison  perhaps  are  in  ; 
or  the  sentinel  with  whom  he  has  made  the  arrangement  may  not 
have  yet  entered  on  Ins  duty.' 

"True,  true,  Mary;  I  see  that  a  hundred  things  may  prevent 
his  being  here  at  the  moment.  But  church  will  soon  be  out. — 
What  shall  we  do  then?  Will  it  not  be  suspicious  for  us  to  re- 
main here  at  this ■  place  without  any  apparent  reason?" 

"  Suppose  we  drive  round  the  square  while  the  people  are  leav- 
ing the  church,  and  then  return  to  this  point  ?" 

"  If  Harry  should  come  while  we  are  away,  Mary.     No,  no,  I 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  275 

cannot  leave.  But  this  we  can  do,"  she  added,  after  thinking  a 
moment :  "  I  will  remain  and  keep  watch  for  Harry,  while  Henry 
drives  you  round.  I  will  shield  myself  in  that  deep  shade  yonder, 
and  no  one  will  see  me  ;  if  they  do,  I  will  tell  them  I  am  awaiting 
my  carriage.  If  be  should  come  and  I  do  not  see  him,  he  will 
doubtless  remain  until  after  every  one  is  gone,  for  he  will  feel  sure 
I  am  here."  . 

"  Tell  the  driver,  Evangeline,  to  drive  slowly  around  the  square, 
returning  just  to  this  point,  but  not  to  set  off  until  the  congrega- 
tion is  dismissed." 

Evangeline  gave  the  order  slowly  and  emphatically  to  the  boy 
on  the  box. 

"  Do  you  understand  me,  Henry  ?" 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  was  the  reply  of  the  drowsy  coachman. 

A  foot-fall  on  the  pavement.  The  two  girls  simultaneously 
thrust  their  heads  from  the  carriage  window.  Breathlessly  they 
awaited  the  advancing  steps.  Nearer  and  nearer  they  came,  until 
they  were  distinctly  audible  just  behind  the  carriage. 

The  girls  grasped  each  other  in  silence.  Neither  spoke  as  they 
caught  the  dim  outline  of  a  man,  evidently  making  his  way  to- 
wards the  carriage.  He  passed  near  the  open  door.  Evangeline 
leaned,  out  until  their  faces  almost  met.  Her  eyes  searched  his 
features  by  the  pale  light.  It  was  not  Harry,  only  some  one  who 
bad  come  to  escort  a  wife  or  sister  from  church.  As  she  fell  back 
in  the  carriage,  she  pressed  Mary's  hand  convulsively,  heaved  a 
heavy  sigh,  but  no  word  escaped  her  lips. 

The  audience  commenced  to  leave  the  church.  Evangeline  re- 
peated her  command  to  the  driver,  alighted,  quietly  closed  the 
door,  and  sought  the  deep  shade  of  the  building.  The  carriage 
drove  slowly  off.  Almost  fearing  to  breathe  lest  she  might  arrest 
the  attention  of  some  one,  Evangeline  remained  motionless,  en- 
sconsed  in  her  dark  hiding  place.  Group  after  group  moved  off, 
and  she  was  left  alone.  She  shuddered  as  she  thought  of  her  situ- 
ation. Dark  fears  shot  through  her  mind,  but  she  dismissed  them 
in  a  moment  as  ill-omened  guests.  The  sexton  extinguished  the 
lights,  swung  to  the  ponderous  front  doors,  locked  them  and  de- 
scending the  steps,  walked  away  humming  a  low  air. 

They  appeared  hours,  these  few  minutes  of  racking  uncertainty. 
The  lone,  trembling  girl,  hid  away  in  the  deep  shadow  of  that  silent 
church,  experienced  the  varied  emotions  of  a  life  time,  while  her 
throbbing  heart  pulsated  but  fleeting  moments.  Wonder  we  at 
that  marked  stamp  of  maturity  that  characterizes  the  manner  and 
countenance  of  some  young  beings  who  cross  our  life-path  as  We 
journey  onward  ?  Ah,  the  heart  doth  often  write  down  in  its  own 
ineffaceable  record  the  sufferings  and  experience  of  many  years, 
while  the  hand  but  moves  in  Times  great  dial  plate. 

What  dread,  what  apprehension,  what  doubt,  what  sinking  sor- 
row, swayed  the  bosom  of  Evangeline  as  she  felt  the  peril  of  her 


276  KAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

position  1  Not  for  herself  cared  she.  It  was  for  him  whom  her 
soul  loved  with  all  the  intensity  .of  its  passionate,  clinging  ardor. 
How  unselfish  is  pure,  young  love  !  How  ready  to  immolate  itself 
on  the  altar  of  its  idol's  happiness  !  Building  its  own  pyre,  it  looks 
gradually  up,  and  rejoices  while  it  reads  in  the  preparation  for  its 
fearful  doom  the  immortality  of  its  own  beloved  Psyche.  To  the 
tear-dimmed  eye  this  earth  is  waste  and  barren,  and  time  and  sel- 
fish interest  eat  out  the  good  from  man's  heart  as  it  obdurates  un- 
der their  ossifying  touch.  But  in  the  fresh,  glad  spring-time  of 
youth,  flowers  bud  and  bloom,  and  send  abroad  sweet  fragrance, 
and  the  whisperings  of  angels  speak  to  life  in  the  soul  of  unsullied 
innocence,  rapturous  emotions  akin  to  those  that  swell  the  bosoms 
of  celestial  beings. 

The  noise  or  the  carriage  wheels  moving  slowly  over  the  bol- 
dered  street  caught  Evangeline's  eager  ear.  Uncertain  whether  it 
was  Mary,  she  remained  under  cover  of  the  darkness.  She  listen- 
ed attentively;  It  came  tardily  on  to  the  corner,  turned,  and  Hen- 
ry's voice  called  out,  "  Wboa,  whoa  !" 
She  forsook  her  covert  and  stepped  to  the  carriage. 
"  Not  yet,  Evangeline  ]" 

"  Not  yet  Mary."  After  a  lapse  of  time  she  said,  "  He  will  not 
coined  Mary.  Harry  will  not  come.  My  heart  tells  me  so.  I  felt 
it  as  I  stood  yonder  beneath  that  frowning  wall." 

She  spoke  with  the  determination  of  desperation,  and  the  voice 
so  cold,  so  hollow,  fell  fearfully  on  Mary's  ear. 

"  Oh,  do  not  despair.  It  is  time  yet.  Get  in  the  carriage,  and 
we  will  wait  here.  There  are  several  minutes  yet  to  half-past  nine, 
and  I  do  not  expect  him  before  then." 

•'Don't  you,  Mary  !"  asked  Evangeline,  sadly,  as  she  seated 
herself  in  the  carriage,  and  leaned  her  head  on  Mary's  shoulder. 
*  Ah,  me,  i  fear  he  will  not  come,"  she  added  hoplessly.  "  Per- 
haps— perhaps — " 

The  words  died  out  on  her  lips.  She  could  not  trust  herself 
with  speaking  the  fears  that  haunted  her  soul. 

Twice  again  during  the  ten  minutes  of  eager  expectation  that 
followed,  Evangeline's  ear  was  mocked  by  the  sound  of  some  one 
coming  towards  the  carriage.  Each  time  she  started  up,  waited 
until  the  individual  passed  by,  then  fell  back  with  a  groan  into 
her  original  position.  Mary's  arm  stole  gently  around  the  languid 
form.  She  hit  how  deeply  Evangeline  needed  words  of  comfort. 
But  how  could  she,  convinced  as  she  now  was,  that  there  was  no 
longer  hope  left,  continue  to  offer  words  of  cheer  or  consolation. 

Minute  succeeded  minute.  Oh,  how  wearily  they  dragged  them- 
selves across  the  tortured  heart  of  the  expectant  girl !  The  old 
Cathedral  clock  rung  out  the  hour  often. 

Evangeline  fell  on  her  friend's  bosom  and  gasped  out — "  Too 
late  !  too  late  !  he  will  not  come  ;  we  must  go."  Henry  was  or- 
dered to  driye  back  to  Mrs.  Party's.    More  dead  than  living  Evan- 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  -  277 

geline  lay,  every  sense  benumbed  by  the  weight  of  disappointment. 
She  did  not.  attempt  to  speak.  She  did  not  move ;  her  low  still 
breathing  was  scarcely  perceptible.  Mary  took  her  icy  hands  in 
hers  and  chafed  them  gently,  and  smoothed  back  from  the  rigid 
brow  the  sheet  of  raven  hair. 

"If  Mr.  Terrant  is  awaiting,  Miaa  Evangeline,  tell  him  she  is 
with  me,"  said  Mary  to  the  driver,  as  she  assisted  the  almost  life- 
less form  of  Evangeline  to  asoend  the  front  steps.  Supporting 
her  as  well  as  she  could.  Mary  ram:  the  bell ;  the  servant  answered 
tardily.  "Assist  me  up  stairs  with  Miss  Evangeline,"  she. said  to 
the  girl  in  a  low  tone.     "  Do  not  make  any  noise." 

"  Is  Miss  Vangie  sick,  Miss  Mary  .'"  asked  the  girl,  rubbing  her 
sleepy  eyes. 

"  She  is  not  well,  Kate.     Has  Mrs.  Purdy  retired  .'" 

"  0  yes,  ma'am,  been  in  bed  long  time.  Missis  got  such  a 
headache." 

Noiselessly  Evangeline  was  conducted  along  the  hall  and  up  the 
stairway  to  Mary's  room.  Reaching  it  she  threw  herself  on  the 
bed,  but  spoke  not. 

"  Some  fresh  water,  Kate :  ice  water." 

While  the  girl  repaired  to  the  cooler  for  water,  Mary  raised  the 
form  of  Evangeline  and  took  off  her  hat.  She  then  loosed  her 
clothes  and  removed  her  shoes,  and  rubbed  her  face  and  hands. 

"Here,  Evangeline,  take  this  water,  it  will  refresh  you;"  and 
she  poured  a  glass  of  ice  water  from  the  pitcher  the  girl  had 
brought,  and  turning  into  it  a  tea-spoonful  of  sal.  volatile,  she 
placed  i  1.  to  Evangeline's  lips.  She  drank  and  looking  up  into 
Mary's  face  whispered,  "  He  did  not  come,  Mary,  did  he  not  come  ?" 

"  You  can  go  down  now,  Kate,  Miss  Evangeline  is  better." 

"If  you  need  me  to-night,  Miss  Mary  ring  the  bell,  and  I'll 
come ;"'  and  the  girl  placed  the  water  on  the  wash.stand  and  left 
the  room. 

As  the  door  closed  behind  the  servant,  Evangeline  sprang  up, 
and  throwing  her  arms  around  about  Mary,  who  sat  on  the  bed  be- 
side her,  burst  into  tears.  She  wept  persistently  for  some  time. 
Her  surcharged  heart  found  relief  from  its  crushing  burden,  and 
after  a  lapse  of  time,  she  said,  looking  sadly  beseechingly  at  her 
friend: 

'•  Oh  !  tell  me,  tell  me,  Mary,  why  did  Harry  not  come  ?" 

"  I  cannot  tell,  Evangeline.  He  could  not  get  out.  Perhaps 
the  guard  deceived  him." 

"  You  did  uot  hear  any  shooting,  Mary,  did  you  ?  " 

"  Oh  no,  Mary,  Harry  is  safe,  no  doubt." 

"  But  in  that  horrid  prison,"  she  responded,  shaking  her  head 
slowly,  and  gazing  out  into  the  room  despairingly,  "He  said  he 
would  come.  It  was  all  arranged,  I  know  it  was  ;  he  understood 
all  the  signs  and  answered  them  all.  I  wonder  why  he  disap- 
pointed me  ?"' 


sJ73  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

"  He  could  not  carry  out  his  plans,  Mary ;  he  has  been  deceived 
in  some,  way." 

"  And  if  he  was  discovered  they'll  put  him  in  irons,  Mary,  and 
send  him  to  Camp  Chase.  Oh !  I  shall  never  again  see  him !  never, 
never"  !  and  again  she  wept  bitterly. 

Mary  endeavored  to  soothe  her,  to  bid  her  hope.  But  how  can 
the  heart  hope  when  it  is  breaking  1 

A  thousand  reasons  presented  themselves  to  the  tortured  mind 
of  Evangeline,  but  nothing  was  satisfactory.  Around  each  sug- 
gestion gathered  doubt,  uncertainty,  fear.  Over  all  hovered  the 
incubus  of  disappointed"  expectation. 

Throughout  the  night  Mary  watched  beside  her.  Sometimes 
sho  slept  fitfully,  at  others  wept,  and  then  again,  with  seeming  com- 
posure, she  would  converse  over  her  bitter  trial. 

"  Could  Lasley  have  thwarted  me,  Mary  !"  she  asked,  as  the 
two  lay  at  the  midnight  hour,  vainly  endeavoring  to  unravel  the 
mystery. 

"  No,  no,  Evangeline ;  it  cannot  be.  What  influence  has  Ed. 
Lasley  1  And  even  did  he  possess  the  power  of  the  highest  official 
here,  could  he  have  known  of  your  plan  V 

"  I  cannot  tell,  Mary.  But  there  comes  over  me  a  vague  feel- 
ing at  times  amounting  to  conviction,  that  he  is  the  author  of  all 
this." 

"  You  do  him  injustice,  Evangie.  I  am  assured  he  has  not  pen- 
etration enough  to  discover  your  secret,  or  ability  to  overturn  your 
arrangements.  No,  no ;  it  is  not  Ed.  Lasley  that  has  done  this. 
The  guard  has  either  deceived  or  betrayed  Harry.  Wait,  Evan- 
geline, a  few  hours  may  disclose  all." 

"  I  must  wait,  Mary.  Stern  necessity  demands  it  of  my  break- 
ing heart.  But,  oh !  how  dreadful  to  bear  this  wasting  anxiety. 
If  Harry  is  killed  or  sent  away,  then  life  to  me  is  worthless — I  ask 
not  to  live." 


CHAPTER  LIII. 

MONDAY,   SEPTEMBER   22,    1S62. 

Bright,  beautifully  bright,  as  if  the  angel  of  light  and  glory  had 
spread  her  pinions  over  the  earth,  opened  the  morning  of  this  day 
so  memorable  in  the  annals  of  Louisville.    And  with  the  up  rising 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  279 

of  its  multitudes  of  men,  came  what  hopes,  what  doubts,  what 
fears  1  I 

During  the  previous  week  ditches  had  been  dug  and  guns  mount- 
ed, so  as  to  circumvallate  the  city  from  the  river  on  the  easl  to  rhe 
river  on  the  west.  Thousands  of  men,  impressed  into  service,  bad 
toiled  beside  the  soldiery  to  prepare  "defenoes  against  the  re 
under  Bragg."  The  fears  of  the  near  sighted  and  unwary  had 
been  stilled  by  this  semblance  of  strength,  and  many  there  were 
who  regarded  their  little  treasures  as  safe  from  the  "vandal  f 
of  Southrons  as  if  some  genii,  in  answer  to  Aladdin's  lamp,  had 
transported  them  to  Central  Africa.  But  others — the  wise  and 
prudent — knew  and  fell  how  little  resistance  these  pits,  dug  in  the 
very  outskirts  of  the  place,  would  offer  to  veteran  troops  deter- 
mined to  secure  a  foothold  in  this  "Union  stronghold.'.'  They 
were  not  to  be  misled  by  this  mere  show  of  safety,  and  fearfully 
did  they  open  their  eyes  to  tin-  certainty  that  Gen.  Bragg  could 
take  Louisville  if  he  desired  to  do  SO.  With  such,  all  was  fearful 
apprehension.  At  an  early  hour  the  streets  were  thronged  with  the 
unquiet  multitude,  eager  for  the  morning  news. 

■•Bragg  had  lefl  tfumfordsville,  where  he  had  defeated  the  Fed- 
erals, capturing  over  four  thousand  prisoners  with  all  their  ac 
trements,  and  was  marching  in  heavy  force  towards  the  city." 
This  was  the  news  that  run  from  lip  to  lip — arousing  the  hopi 
Southern  hearts  who  were  panting  for  deliverance,  and  filling  with 
gloom  and  anxiety  the  bosom/  of  Lincoln's  supporters.  Men  were 
at  work  on  the  entrenchments;  regiments  were  paraded  through 
the  thoroughfares  to  impress  the  public  with  a  feeling  of  security. 
Forces  were  constantly  being  crossed  over  from  Jeffersonvilie  to 
take  position  among  the  defenders  of  the  city.  Officers  dashed 
through  the  streets  on  horseback,  all  eager  in  the  accomplishment 
of  suitable  preparations  to  meet  the  enemy.  Cannon  rattled  along 
followed  by  the  shouts  and  yells  of  boys  and  darkies.  Cnion  flags 
waved  from  Union  windows.  Cavalry,  with  rushing  tramp  and 
clanking  swords,  swept  from  point  to  point.  Every  where  the  work 
went  on  ;  every  where  were  signs  of  confusion  and  fearful  looking 
for  of  danger.  Men's  hearts  failed  them  as  they  thought  of  the 
coming  conflict. 

Suddenly  the  news  ran  through  the  streets,  "Gen. Nelson  has 
issued  an  order  for  all  the  women  and  children,  and  non-combat- 
ants to  leave  the  city."  It  sped  from  tongue  to  tongue  until  it 
reached  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  town.  Had  there  been 
written  on  the  clear  azure  above,  in  characters  of  living  light,  the 
fearful  doom  of  all  mankind,  darker  and  more  dire  panic  could  not 
have 'seized  the  hearts  of  men  and  women.  What  had  been  pain- 
fully contingent  before  was  now  a  most  appalling  reality.  Bragg 
was  at  the  very  gates  of  the  city,  and  Nelson  declared  rather  than 
it  should  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  rebels  he  would  fight  hand  to 
hand  through  the  streets,  and  then  if  he  was  compelled  to  evacuate 


230  RAIDS  AND  ROMANC  E 

and  cross  to  the  northern  bank  of  the  river,  he  would  plant  his  guns 
on  the  Indiana  shore  and  shell  it  until  every  house  was  demolished 
before  the  enemy  should  hold  it.  Nelson  was  known  to  be  a  reek- 
less,  desperate  man,  always  ready  for  any  rash,  unnatural  act,  and 
each  individual  considered  .not  only  his  property,  but  his  life,  in 
jeopardy.  In  less  than  half  an  hour  from  the  first  'faint  rumor  of 
the  baneful  order,  every  house  seemed  to  have  emptied  its  inmates 
into  the  already  thronged  streets.  Men,  pale  and  trembling,  eager- 
ly asking  of  every  responsible  friend  they  met  if  the  rumor  was 
really  true.  Women  weeping  and  wringing  their  hands  in  agony  ; 
children  affrighted  and  aroused  by  that  sense  of  dread  and  anxiety 
which  -the  young  always  feel  under  excitement,  dashed  wildly  to 
and  fro.  Every  body  appeared  phrenzied,  devoid  of  both  reason 
and  method. 

The  order  had  been  issued.  Bragg  was  within  a  few  miles  of 
the  city,  and  the  battle  would  begin  in  a  few  hours.  Then  came 
the  fearful  rush  of  thousands,  eager  to  escape  the  dreadful  doom  of 
conflict.  Every  vehicle,  from  the  most  superb  hack  down  to  the 
rickety  old  dray,  was  impressed  into  the  service  of  transporting 
families  to  a  place  of  refuge.  Clothes  were  hastily  thrown  into 
trunks,  which  trunks  were  thrown  into,  drays,  furniture  wagons, 
omnibuses,  carriages,  hacks,  or  whatever  vehicle  could  be  obtain- 
ed, and  driven  at  pell-mell  speed  to  the  wharf.  Houses,  with 
everything  in  them  turned  upside  down,  where  hastily  cleared  and 
consigned  by  their  fleeing  owners  to  the  fate  of  war.  Babes  were 
sn arched  from  the  cradle,  and  wrapped  up  in  anything  that  could 
afford  protection  from  the  chill  air  of  autumn,  were  pressed  to  the 
throbbing  bosom  of  the  distracted  mother,  and  borne  to  one  of  the 
boats  that  stood  in  waiting  to  convey  them  to  the  opposite  shore. 
The  river  bank  was  thronged  with  fearful  crowds,  all  anxious  to 
secure  a  speedy  transit  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  Ohio. 

As  each  hour  passed,  rumors  became  more  and  more  numerous, 
more  and  more  terrible.  "  Bragg  had  whipped  Buell's  forces  and 
cut  them  to  pieces,  and  was  now  halting  outside  the  city  demand- 
ing its  surrender."  Dozens  of  persons  had  seen  his  truce  flag 
borne  along  the  streets  ;  others,  who  had  ascended  the  roof  of  the 
Custom  House,  had  seen,  with  the  aid  of  glasses,  his  whole  army 
only  a  few  miles  out,  awaiting  the  return  of  the  flag  of  truce. 

As  Nelson  had  sworn  he  would  never  surrender,  it  was  believed 
the  city  would  be  immediately  attacked,  and  the  expectant  ears 
of  the  panic-stricken  fugitive's,  as  they  sped  the  streets,  or  lined 
the  wharf,  or  pursued  the  various  roads  that  communicated  with 
the  country,  eagerly  listened  for  the  first  booming  of  the  death- 
dealing  cannon. 

Evening  came,  but  brought  no  attack.  Yet  the  excitement  was 
not  one  whit  abated.  Still  the  stream  continued  to  outpour. 
Every  where  new  reports  sprung  into  life,  and  were  caught  up  by 
eager  listeners  and  repeated  as   truth,  until  to  walk  one  square 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  231 

and  hear  tile  varied  recitals  that  met  you,  was  to  grow  bewildered 
and  doubt  the  truth  of  all. 

At  one  corner  you  Would  hear  .that  Bragg  had  completely  anni- 
hilated BuelPs  army.  At  the  next  corner,  you  would  learn  from 
a  source  equally  as  veracious,  that  Buell  had  encountered  Bragg 
and  routed  his  army,  scattering  it  in  every  direction.  One  would 
assert  as  a  fact  wholly  unquestionable,  thai  General  Bragg  would 
certainly  reach  t lie  city  that  night  ;  another  would  declare  that  he 
knew  beyond  contradiction  that  Bragg  had  but  twenty-five  thous- 
and men,  and  that  he  would  not  dare  to  venture  upon  the  pjaee. 
Shops  and  store-houses  of  all  descriptions  were  closed,  their  alarm- 
ed owners  having  fled,  leaving  behind  them  everything  that  would 
embarrass  their  precipitate  exodus. 

Evening  capie — yet  the  frightful  rush  continued,  and  when  the 
chill  September  night  fell  down  over  the  earth,  thousands  of 
the  citizens  of  Louisville,  without  any  comforts,  many  destitute 
of  even  a  shelter  from  the  night  air,  were  congregated  in  Jeffer- 
sonville.  New  Albany,  and  other  points  on  the  Indiana  shore. 
Many  af  the  more  wealthy  had  gone  to  Cincinnati  and  Indiana- 
opoliSi  while  others,  unwilling  to  attempt  to  seek  safety  on  free- 
soil,  had  moved  out  by  every  possible  means  into  the  nearest 
towns  and  the  contiguous  counties.  The  prisoners  bad  all  bean 
forwarded  to  Camp  Chase,  and  many  of  thejuilitary  officials  had 
made  full  arrangements  to  depart  at  the  first  appearance  of  neces- 
sity. 

Meanwhile,  General  Bragg  was  quietly  pursuing  his  way  to 
Bardstown,  having  diverged  from  the  direct  route  to  Louisville  at 
Hodgenville,  some  thirty  miles  from  the  city.  Beaching  Bards- 
town in  the  forenoon  of  that  memorable  day,  he  halted  his  weary 
troops  for  rest,  and  immediately  sent  out  detachments  of  cavalry 
on  all  the  routes  leading  towards  the  city;  which  movement  be- 
ing made  known,  gave  rise  to  the  belief  that  it  was  his  intention 
to  approach  by  the  various  roads  that  led  from  the  vicinity  of 
Bardstown  to  Louisville,  and  all  who  ventured  out  in  that  direc- 
tion expected  to  meet  the  heavy  columns  of  triumphant  Confeder- 
ates marching  on  to  the  certain  capture  of  the  town.  It  was  also 
believed  by  many  that  Central  Kirby  Smith's  forces  were  advan- 
cing from  Lexington  by  way  of  Shelbyville,  to  form  a  junction 
with  Bragg,  and  thus  simultaneously  attack  the  town  from  two 
different  points. 

"What  is  the  news,  Mrs.  Purdy?"  asked  Mary  and  Evange- 
line in  the  same  breath,  as  that  lady  entered  the  room,  heated, 
flushed  and  trembling  with  affright.  "  Oh,  tell  me,  Mrs.  Purdy, 
tell  me!"  gasped  Evangeline,  as  she  started  up  in  the  bed  from 
which  she  had  not  yet  risen. 

It  was  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  Mrs.  Purdy  had  just 
returned  from  market.  Without  waiting  below  to  lay  aside  her 
bonnet  and  shawl,  she  hastened  up  stairs,  sought  Mary's  room, 


282  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

and,  disregarding  the  ceremony  of  rapping  at  the  door,  entered 
with  an  expression  of  terror  on  her  countenance. 

Evangeline  sat  in  bed,  h«r  hands  clasped  and  staring  up  into 
Mrs.  Purdy's  face,  as  if  she  would  read  therefrom  the  dread  secret 
of  her  alarm.  Mary  rose  and  conducted  her  to  the  sofa.  In  in- 
terrupted sentences  the  terrified  woman  informed  the  girls  of  the 
fearful  order  and  the  imminent  peril  of  the  city. 

Not  a  word  of  reply  was  spoken.  The  three  sat  in  silence, 
horror  stricken.  After  a  lapse  of  some  moments,  Evangeline  ex- 
claimed : 

"  Can  this  be  true,  Mrs.  Purdy,  or  is  it  only  a  rumor  ?" 

"True,  Evangeline — true,  child.  I  saw  Mr.  Middleton,  who 
had  just  returned  from  the  office  of  the  Journal;  and  he  told  me 
that  Shipman  told  him  the  order  had  been  issued  by  Gen.  Nelson, 
and  would  appear  on  the  bulletin  boards  as  soon  as  it  could  be 
printed." 

"And  what  shall  we  do — what  shall  we  do  !"  asked  Evange- 
line, imploringly,  springing  from  the  bed  to  the  side  of  the  yet 
trembling  woman. 

"  Leave,  leave — we  must  leave !"  was  the  emphatic  reply. 

"  And  where  must  we  go,  Mrs.  Purdy  V  asked  Mary,  quickly, 
as  the  hope  sprang  up  in  her  heart  of  getting  to, her  father. 

"Anywhere,  anywhere,  where  we  will  be  safe.  Hundreds  are 
already  on  their  way  to  Cincinnati  and  Indiana." 

"  And  would  you  go  across  the  river,  Mrs.  Purdy  ?  Would 
you  seek  safety  in  the  midst  of  our  enemies  1" 

"  I  cannot  stop  now,  Mary,  to  debate  differences.  To  secure 
the  preservation  of  my  own  life  and  the  life  of  my  child  is  now  my 
first  business." 

I'  And  is  the  city  certainly  to  be  shelled,  Mrs.  Purdy  ?" 

"  General  Nelson  says  so." 

"  And  what  will  be  done  with  the  prisoners  1  Are  they  to  be 
kept  shut  up  to  take  the  chances  for  life  or  death  V 

"  I  do  not  know,  Evangeline.  I  heard  no  mention  of  them. 
Perhaps  the  morning  paper  says  something  about  it.  Here,  I 
have  one  in  my  pocket.  .Didn't  have  time  to  look  at  it.  May  be 
you  will  find  there  what  is  to  be  done  with  them,"  she  said,  as 
she  handed  the  sheet  to  Evangeline,  who  took  it  and  hastily. ran 
her  eye  up  and  down  the  columns. 

"  I  must  go  and  pack  my  tpnk,  and  be  ready  to  be  off  as  soon 
as  possible.    Mary,  will  you  go  with  me  1" 

"  Where  are  you  going,  Mrs.  Purdy  1" 

"  To  my  cousins,  at  Hanover,  Indiana.  It  is  the  only  place 
that  I  can  go." 

"No,  Mrs.  Purdy.  I  shall  never  cross  the  river  to. seek  for 
safety.     I  will  die  on  Kentucky  soil  first." 

"  But  I  cannot  leave  you,  Mary." 

"  Oh,  don't  give  yourself  a  moment's  thought  about  me.    I  will 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  283 

take  care  of  myself.  I  am  not  afraid  of  the  Confederates,  if  they 
should  come,  and  if  Nelson  should  be  wild  enough  to  try  to  shell 
them  out,  I  will  go  to  the  country." 

"  You  are  not  going  to  trust  yourself  here,  Mary  I"  said  Mrs. 
Purdy,  in  surprise,  as  she  turned  from  the  door  to  look  back  upon 
the  heroic  girl.  '•  Stay  here  and  be  killed !  You  will  have  no 
time  t"o  get  away  when  the  fight  is  raging  everywhere." 

"I  cannot  go  to  Indiana,  Mrs.  Purdy.  I  will  not  place  myself 
beyond  the  reach  of  my  brother  and  father,  and  all  who  are  my 
friends.  No,  no;  Pll  remain  on  my  native  soil,  and  take  the 
chances.  13ut  do  not  let  me  interrupt,  your  arrangements.  I  will 
go  out  to  Mr.  R.'s,  and  whatever  they  think  best,  I  will  do." 

Mrs.  Purdy  left  the  room,  wondering  that  anybody  should  stand 
at  a  juncture  so  critical,  upon  a  question  of  difference  rf  opinion. 

As  the  door  closed,  Evangeline  ejaculated  :  "  To  Camp  Chase, 
Mary,  to  Camp  Chase!" 

"  Who,  Evangeline — the  prisoners?" 
"  Yes — to-day,  at  twelve  o'clock.     I  must  see  Harry." 
"  And  are  you  going  to  remain  here,  Evangeline  V 
"  Oh,  Mary,  Mary,  I  know  nut  what  to  do.     I  a  :.  bewildered — 
my  brain  reels.     My  uncle  cannot  go  with  me.     All  the  men  capa- 
ble of  bearing  arms  are  to  be  kept  for  the  defence  of  the  city.     I 
cannot  go  myself.     I  cannot  remain  if  Harry  is  taken  away.  What 
shall  I  do— wbai  shall  I  do!" 
"  Go  with  me,  Evangeline." 
"  And  where  will  you  go.  Mary  ?" 

"Through  the  Confederate  lines  to  my  father  and  brother." 
"But  bow  will  you  get  through,  Mary  ?     Who  will  go  with 
you  1" 

"  I  do  not  know.  There  will  be  some  way  of  escape  for  me." 
"  But  if  Harry  is  to  be  sent  to  Camp  Chase,  I  must  keep  within 
Federal  lines.  You  know  I  have  no  one  to  rely  on  if  he  cannot 
escape  but  Union  friends,  who  will  never  go  beyond  Federal 
limits.  Oh,  that  Harry  had  but  escaped  last  night !  then  would 
I  gladly  go  with  you." 

The  door  bell  rang.     Evangeline  shuddered. 
"  Who,  or  what  can  that  be  t     The  least  noise  affrights  me.  My 
heart  forbodes  evil.    What  if  Harry  is  dead  ?" 

"  Oh,  Evangt  'na,  that  cannot  be.  The  morning  paper  would 
have  mentioned  any  occurrence  of  the  kind,  and  the  streets  would 
be  filled  with  it," 

"Not  now,  Marv  Every  one  is  too  much  engaged  looking  to 
his  own  welfare,  1  >  regard  the  fate  of  another." 

She  had  scarcely  fir  bed  the  sentence,  when  the  door  opened, 
and  Mrs.  Spalding  e'  >d,  trembling,  as  Mrs.  Purdy  with  alarm. 
Without  waiting  +  the  girls  good-morning,  she  said  : 

"  I  have  called,  ry,  to  take  you  home  with  me.  The  city  is 
to  be  shelled  in  ai  hour,  they  say.    Get  your  bonnet  on  immedi. 


284  EAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

ately,  and  go  with  me.  You  will  then  be  beyond. present  danger. 
And  you,  too,  Evangie,  there  is  room  for  you.  What  is  the  mat- 
ter, child — are  you  sick?  you  look  so  pale  and  worn.  Don't  be 
alarmed.  There  is  no  possibility  of  your  being  hurt  at  Pa's,  un- 
less the  battle  should  be  fought  out  in  that  direction,  and  then  we 
would  fall  farther  back — go  to  Bardstown  or  Lebanon.  Dress 
yourself  quickly.     The  carriage  will  be  here  in  a  few  minutes." 

"  Do,  Evangeline,  go  with  us  ;  I  cannot  leave  you,"  said  Mary, 
beseechingly,  as  she  hastened  from  drawer  to  wardrobe,  and  from 
wardrobe  to  trunk,  gathering  up  a  few  needed  articles  of  clothing. 

Evangeline  buried  her  face  in  her  hands,  and  remained  silent. 
Then,  looking  up,  she  said  : 

"  No,  no ;  I  cannot  go.     I  remain  here." 

"  Stay  in  the  city,  Evangie,  and  it  being  shelled  !  Why  this  is 
folly — rashness.  You  must  go  with  me — must  go.  There  is  no 
choice  left.  Your  aunt  is  away.  Your  unc'ewill  not  be  permitted 
to  leave.  You  cannot  go  alone — to  remain  here  is  impossible. 
You  must  go  with  me.  I  cannot  leave  you  here.  Come,  get  on 
your  dress,  we  have  no  time  to  lose,  the  fight  may  begin  at  any 
hour.  Hush!  wasn't  that  the  report  of  cannon1?"  and  Mrs.  Spald- 
ing sprang  to  the  window,  and,  hastily  throwing  it  up,  listened 
with  trembling  fear. 

A  few  moments  more,  and  again  the  report  of  cannon  sounded 
out  on  the  air. 

"  It  is — it  is  !"  she  exclaimed,  springing  back,  her  eyes  start- 
ing from  their  sockets.  "  It  is  cannonading !  Perhaps  the  con- 
flict has  already  began.  Evangeline,  Evangeline,  do  come !  Oh, 
do — in  a  moment.  Don't  sit  there.  See,  Mary  is  almost  ready  ; 
and  Mrs.  Purdy  has  her  trunk  packed,  and  has  sent  out  for  a 
carriage  to  take  her  to  the  boat.  Dress,  dress,  or  you  will  be  too 
late." 

"I  cannot  go,  -Lu.  Oh,  I  cannot!"  she  said,  emphatically. 
"  I  must  stay  with  my  uncle." 

"  Stay  with  your  uncl'e,  Evangeline !  What  good  can  you  do  1 
You  only  endanger  your  own  life.  General  Kelson  says  all  the 
women  and  children  must  leave  the  city.  It  will  be  shelled,  and 
if  necessary,  to  prevent  its  falling  into  our  hands,  shall  be  burnt. 
Come,  there  is  Mr.  Spalding.    Get  up,  get  up,  and  dress  yourself." 

"  Oh,  Evangie,  do  go,"  said  Mary,  throwing  her  arms  about 
the  neck  of  the  pale,  wan  girl.  "  Do  go,  Evangie.  It  is  of  no 
avail  for  you  to  stay  here.  The  matter  cannot  be  altered.  We 
must  submit." 

Evatigeline  looked  up  at  her  friend.  Her,  «  res  were  red  with 
the  weeping  of  the  past  night,  and  on  h'  "face  there  rested  a  sad 
and  anxious  expression.  But  her  coiii,  >ed  lips  and  the  fixed 
look  of  those  expressive  black  eyes,  toh,  Jl  too  plainly  of  her 
resolved  purpose.  i  * 

"Do  not  ask  me,  Mary.     I  must  remain  L  re.    You  know  my 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  '285 

reasons.  I  should  be  miserable  in  Confederate  lines,  where  I 
could  hear  nolhing,  and  life  is  not  worth  preserving  now.  I  can- 
not go." 

*'  But  what  will  you  do,  Evangeline  ?" 

"  Ob,  I  cannot  tell.     There  w  ill  be  some  way  opened  for  me." 

"But  I  cannot  leave  you  so." 

"  Yes,  Mary,  you  must.  Do  not  delay  a  moment  for  me.  Al- 
ready you  may  be  endangered.  Go,  go,  and  leave  me.  I  will 
take  care  of  myself." 

"  But  you  will  not  remain  here.  Mrs.  Purdy  will  be  ofl  in  a 
short  time,  and  the  house  will  be  closed." 

"No,  no;  I  shall  go  directly  home.  From  there,  to  the  prison 
and  the  boat,"  she  whispered.  "  I  may,  perchance,  see  him  once 
more." 

Mary  threw  her  arms  about  her  neck  and  burst  into  tears.  "Oh, 
Evangie,  we  may  never  meet  again.  Good-bye,'  and  she  kis  ed 
her  again  and  again. 

Evangeline  spoke  not.  The  tears  gushed  from  her  eyes.  She 
strained  Mary  to  her  heart,  and  imprinted  a  farewell  kiss  upon 
her  lips,  and  the  two  parted — to  meet  no  more. 

Mrs.  Spalding  bade  her  good-bye.  The  two  left  the  room,  and 
gaining  the  carriage,  drove  rapidly  out  to  the  country. 

Evangeline  dressed  herself  mechanically,  and  walked  home. 
She  found  her  uncle  gone,  and  all  the  servants  save  the  cook  out 
uii  the  streets,  to  hear  the  news.     The  clock  struck  eleven. 

"One  hour  more,  and  he  goes  from  me  forever,  Once  in  that 
horrid  prison,  and  he  will  never  come  out  again,''  she  said  to  her- 
self, mournfully,  as  she  closed  the  door  of  her  room,  and  set  out 
alone,  to  catch,  if  possible,  one  more  glimpse  of  the  beloved  form. 

She  drew  her  veil  closely  over  her  face,  and  proceeded  in  the 
direction  of  the  prison.  Every  where  met  her  eyes  evidences  of 
the  terrible  panic  that  had  seized  the  people.  The  streets  were 
thronged  with  vehicles  carrying  away  women  and  children, 
and  baggage.  The  side-walks  were  crowded  with  the  moving 
masses,  jostling  against  each  other,  as  each  rushed  along  in  pur- 
suit, of  his  own  particular  phantom. 

Quickly,  quietly,  she  treaded  her  way  along  the  streets,  regard- 
ing nothing  but  her  own  safety  from  the  danger  of  being  thrown 
down.  Her  mind  was  filled  with  the  one  dread  thought,  that  of 
not  seeing  Harry  before  he  left.  As  she  neared  the  prison,  she 
saw  a  great  crowd  around  the  gateway.  Men  were  moving  about 
as  if  some  consternation  had  befallen  them,  and  on  lifting  her  veil, 
to  endeavor  to  ascertain  the  cause  of  the  commotion,  she  saw  sev- 
eral soldiers  pass  in  and  through  the  dense  a 

"They  are  taking  the  prisoners  away,"  she  said,  and  with  one 
bound  she  pressed  forward  and  forced  herself  on  the  corner  of  the 
pavement  by  which  they  must  pass  on  their  way  to  the  river. 
Almost  ready  to  faint  with  emotion,  she  maintained  her  position 


286  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

as  well  as  she  could,  amid  the  surging  movements  of  the  ever- 
changing  throng.  She  could  not  see  the  door  of  the  prison,  nor 
the  great  gate  guarded  by  its  sentinels.  Throwing  her  thick  veil 
aside,  and  shielding  her  face  from  the  peering  curiosity  of  the 
passer-by  as  well  as  she  could  with  her  hand,  she  looked  up  over 
the  heads  of  the  people  to  the  prison  windows.  A  few  forms  stood 
before  them.  Her  heart  bounded  as  slfe  fancied  she  caught  a 
glimpse  of  Harry.  She  looked  again — the  form  was  gone.  Eager- 
ly she  strained  her  eyes  upward,  each  moment  hoping  he  would 
reappear. 

"  What's  going  on  here?"  asked  one  man  of  another,  as  the  two 
met  on  the  pavement,  near  where  Evangeline  was  standing  be- 
side another  female,  like  herself,  closely  veiled. 

"  Going  to  take  the  rebel  prisoners  to  Camp  Chase.  Are  afraid 
Bragg  will  get  them." 

"  Pshaw  !  he'll  never  come  here.  Buell  will  cut  him  all  to 
pieces,  and  send  his  starving,  naked  vandals  flying  back  to 
Dixie." 

"  Not  soJ  sure  of  that,  Mr.  Duncan.  Things  look  mighty  doubt- 
ful now,  I  tell  you.  The  order  of  Nelson  means  a  great  deal. 
Desperate  struggle  ahead.''' 

"  Desperate  struggle,  Mr.  McAllister !  Why,  you  don't  think 
so,  do  you?  Why,  the  starving,  naked,  cowardly  Southerners 
won't  fight.  They  haven't  got  any  arms  to  fight  with.  Some  old 
flint-lock  guns,  and  now  and  then  a  man  with  a  squirrel  rifle. 
■  -What  can  such  a  people  do  1  Our  men  can  whip  them  out  in  an 
hour,  and  not  half  try." 

"Don't  feel  so  certain  about  that,"  said  the  old  man,  looking 
searchingly  into  his  friend's  face,  to  see  if  he  was  not  quizzing 
him.  "  Don't  feel  certain — not  at  all  certain,  sir.  I  used  to  be- 
lieve these  tales  about  these  rebels  being  starved,  and  naked,  and 
having  no  guns.  But  I  tell  you,  sir,  when  they  are  right  here, 
ready  to  overrun  us,  and  we  have  got  so  many  men,  it  looks 
mighty  strange,  sir.    Makes  a  man  think,  I  tell  you." 

"  But  Prentice  tells  you  not  to  fear,  they  are  nothing  but  a 
handful  of  men,  made  desperate  because  they  have  got  no  bread 
and  bacon,  and  he  is  good  authority,  sir." 

"  Confound  old  Prentice  !  I  used  to  believe  all  he  said.  But 
I  tell  you,  sir,  he's  lied  about  these  rebels.  Needn't  tell  me 
any  longer  they  are  cowards,  when  they  stand  right  here  threat- 
ening this  city.  All  a  mistake,  sir — all  a  mistake.  They've  got 
plenty  of  spunk.  I've  been  down  South, -and  I  know  what  they 
are.     Prentice  needn't  tell  me  they  won't  fight." 

"  Oh,  but  Buell  will  whip  them  out.  Don't  be  alarmed.  He 
will  manage  them." 

"  Not  so  sure  of  that  either,  sir.  He  didn't  manage  them  down 
in  Tennessee.  I  don't  see  how  he's  going  to  do  it  now — they've 
got  the  start  of  him.    Mighty  fearful  Bragg  will  ruin  him,  and 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  287 

then  pounce  down  on  us,  and  ruin  us.  Needn't  tell  me,  Mr.  Dun- 
can. You're  a  Southern  man,  and  I  don't  believe  a  word  you've 
said.  You  are  only  laughing  at  me.  You  Soul  hem  men  are  all 
in  fine  spirits.  Not  one  of  you  hut  what  can  laugh  over  this  mat- 
ter, serious  as  it  is." 

"  I  am  only  teLling  you,  Mr.  McAllister,  what  Prentice  says.  *  I 
thought  he  was  the  cream  of  all  wisdom  and  truth.  As  to  what 
I  believe,  that's  a  matter  of  small  moment;  it  can't  possibly  affect 
the  issue  either  way.'' 

"  Are  you  going  to  leave  Louisville,  Mr.  Duncan — I  mean  vour 
family  V 

"  No,  sir ;  we  have  decided  to  remain  and  take  the  shelling." 

"Yes,  that's  the  way  with  you  rebels — you  all  believe  Dragg's 
•coming.  .Not  one  of  you  is  going  to  budge  an  inch  ;  this  telis  the 
tale.  You  all  think  Bragg  will  be  here  in  a  few  hours.  Well, 
well,  it  may  he  so.  Good-bye,  I  may  never  see  you  again  ;  for  if 
the  rebels  do  come,  I,  for  one,  will  leave* — I  shan't  fall  into  their 
hands." 

The  two  ba.de  each  otherfarewe.il  and  parted. 

Evangeline  had  listened  attentively  to  ihis  little  by-chat.  She 
would  fain  catch  at  any  promise  of  hope,  however  vague  and  un- 
certain. Could  the  Southerners  reach  the  city  before  the  prisoners 
were  sent  away,  Harry  would  be  saved.  Or  could  there  even 
spring  up  an  uncontrollable  excitement,  it  would  offer  some  hope 
ot   deliverance. 

As   these   thoughts  wen-   passing  through  her  mind,  her  eyes 
were    seeking    the    open    window,  desin  us  to   catch  one  view  of 
'Harry.     Two  men   encountered  each  other  en   the  pavement  to 
her  left.     Their  words,  though  spoken  in  an  ordinary  voice,  reach- 
ed her  car. 

"  What's  all  this,  going  on  here  V  asked  one  of  the  other. 

"Going  to  take  the  rebel  prisoners  across  the  river;  afraid 
Bragg  will  get  them  here."    . 

"  Ah,  yes,  yes.  One  of  them  attempted  to  escape  last  night,  I 
believe;  didn't,  he?"  remarked  the  elder  of  the  two  to  the  other. 
The  speaker  was  an  old  man,  with  white  hair,  sunken  blue  eyes, 
and  thin,  pale  face.  He  leaned  on  his  cane  as  he  walked  along, 
being  stooped  in  the  shoulders. 

"  Did  he,  indeed  I  I  had  not  heard  of  itk"  was  the  quick,  ner- 
vous reply  of  the  younger  gentleman. 

'•  Yes — one  of  .Morgan's  men.  '1  hey  are  perfect  dare-devils,  you 
know  (" 

"  And  did  he* succeed  ?" 

Evangeline's  ready  ear  had  caught  the  words  of  the  speaker. 
She  stepped  forward  to  the  front  of  the  pavement,  the  better  to 
hear  the  thrilling  conversation. 

"1  heard  that — " 
The  old  gentleman  had  proceeded  thus  far  with  his  reply,  when 


288  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

a  rough,  brawny  man  knocked  up  against  Evangeline,  almost 
dashing  her  down.  She  lost,  the  last  words  of  the  answer,  for  be- 
fore she  could  recover  herself,  the  gentlemen  were  bidding  each 
other  "  good  morning." 

Amazed,  distracted  at  the  uncertainty  in  which  she  found  her- 
self! she  looked  round  to  see  which  way  the  elderly  gentleman  had 
proceeded.  Her  strong  impulse  was  to  follow  him,  but  he  was  lost 
to  her  vision  amid  the  throng.  Turning  to  the  veiled  female  who 
stood  near  her,  whom  she  hoped  might  have  heard  tue  old  gentle- 
man's answer,  she  asked  timidly — 

"  Did  you  hear  whether  one  of  Morgan's  men  escaped  from  the 
prison  last  night?" 

"No!"  said  the  girl,  astonishment  evident  in  her  tone.  "Did 
one  get  out  1" 

"1  heard  something  said  about  one  of  them  attempting  to 
escape." 

"  I  do  hope  he  succeeded,"  the  female  replied,  without  raising 
her  veil,  only  turning  her  face  to  Evangeline.  "  E  wonder  who  it 
was." 

"  I  did  not  hear  his  name.  Are  there  more  than  one  of  Mor- 
gan's men  there'.'" 

"  Oh,  yes ;  several.  I  have  an  accmaintance  in  prison,  young 
Roberts,  who  is  one  of  his  men." 

At  the  mention  of  this  name,  Evangeline  started.  Did  she 
know  the  female  standing  beside  her?  Did  the  lady  recognize 
her  'I     No — else  she  would  have  assuredly  addressed  her  by  name. 

"The  prisoners  go  to  Cincinnati  to-day,"  said  Evangeline,  her 
curiosity  excited,  and  desiring  to  prolong  the  conversation,  hoping 
to  hear  something  that  would  throw  light  on  Harry's  dark  fate. 

"Yes,  at  twelve  o'clock.  I  have  an  uncle,  from  Owen  county, 
among  the  number,  and  I  am  waiting  hereto  see  him  as  he  passes. 
Poor  old  man  !  he  has  been  in  prison  for  a  month,  and  his  health 
is  so  feeble.  I  went  to  see  him  last  Thursday,  and  he  looked  so 
pale  and  thin ;  he  can't  live  long  in  Camp  Chase.  Have  you  a 
friend  here?"  she  said,  extending  a  look  of  anxious  inquiry  upon 
Evangeline.  ' 

"Yes;"  said  Evangeline, averting. her  head,  as  she  felt  the  blood 
rising  to  her  cheeks. 

The  crowd  gave  way  and  the  prisoners,  under  strong  guard, 
marched  from  the  gate  way  to  the  middle  of  the  street  and  formed 
in  line.  Evangeline,  from  where  she  stood,  could  only  catch  a 
view  of  the  two  who  "were  in  front.  She  scanned  their  features 
closely  as  they  stood  with  bold  defiant  air  bent  on  the  gazing, 
gaping  assemblage  that  lined  the  sidewalk  on  either  hand. 

A  few  minutes  and  the  last  one  had  fallen  into  the  ranks.  Then 
came  the  order  "  March  !"  With  elastic  step  and  stern,  unyield- 
ing front,  the  head  of  the  column  reached  Fifth  and  turned  out 
towards  the  river.     Scrutinizingly  Evangeline  searched  each  face. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  2:9 

Pair  by  pair  went  on,  but,  Harry  was  not  of  them.  "  He  must 
have  escaped,"  said  Evangeline  to  herself,  beginning  to  feel  the 
risings  of  hope  in  her  bosom.  "  Strange  I  should  not  have  heard 
it ;  but.  perhaps  he  had  no  time — had  to  flee  to  the  country.,' 

She  was  solacing  her  heart  with  this  thought  when  she  heard  a 
voice  say,  "good  bye,  good  bye."     Instantly  she  pressed  nearer  to 
the  passing  column.    It  was  the  old  uncle,  addressing  bis  ni 
who  had  thrown  up  her  veil  so  as  to  be  recognized,  and  who,  by  a 
signal,  had  attracted  the  attention  of  the  old  man. 

Scarcely  had  the  young  girl  recovered  from  the  shock  this  sud- 
den surprise  had  given  her,  when  she  heard  her  own  name  pro- 
nounced in  tones  all  too  familiar.  Harry  had  seen  her,  knew  her. 
and  had  called  her  name  as  he  passed  rapidly  by. 

"  Harry  !"  was  the  only  response  of  the  excited  girl,  as  she  saw 
the  young  man  in  advance  of  where  she  stood. 

"Come,  go  with  me  to  the  boat,"  she  said  to  the  female  beside 
her,  "we  shall  see  our  friends  there — it  will  be  the  last  time  ;" 
and  she  seized  the  arm  of  the  woman  convulsively,  who,  without 
time  to  reflect,  yielded  without,  remonsirance,  and  the  two  set  out 
with  the  running  mass  to  follow  the  prisoners. 

"Nobody  will  notice  us,"  said  Evangeline,  feeling  that  perhaps 
the  woman  might  have  some  reluctance  to  accompanying  her  in 
this  strange  summary  manner.  "  The  whole  city  is  in  an  uproar 
to-day  ;  they  will  think  we  are  endeavoring  to  flee." 

The  female  allowed  herself  to  be  led  along.  "Come  quickly  ; 
we  must  pass  them  and  reach  the  boat  first.  See!  it  wants  only 
fifteen  minutes  of  the  time.     We  will  not  get  to  see." 

Pressing  on  through  the  moving  tide  of  human  beings  that 
crowded  every  street,  Evangeline  and  her  friend  succeeded  in  gain- 
ing the  wharf  in  advance  of  the  prisoners.  Selecting  a  position  by 
which  the  men  must  pass  as  they  filed  on  board  the  boat,  that 
already  awaited  them,  they  paused  until  the  column,  the  front  of 
which  was  already  in  view,  should  reach  them.  A  moment,  and 
the  advance  had  passed.  Riveted  to  the  spot,  Evangeline  gazed 
on  each  passing  form,  until  her  eye  rested  on  Harry.  Just  as  he 
reached  her,  the  column  was  ordered  to  halt. 

"  Harry,"  she  said,  as  she  rushed  to  his  side,  "  why  didn't  you 
come?" 

"The  guard,  Evangeline — the  guard  deceived  me." 

"  And  can't  you  get  away,  dear  Harry  1"  she  whispered  low,  as 
she  saw  the  soldiers  rearing  the  spot  where  she  was. 

"Impossible — impossible!  I  will  try  at  Cincinnati.  If  I  don't 
succeed  there,  I  will  surely  get  away  from  Camp  Chase." 

"Oh,  Harry—" 

"Don't  be  distressed, Evangeline,"  broke  in  the  prisoner,  as  he 
saw  the  look  of  hopeless  despair  that  gathered  on  the  sad  face  of 
E  vangeline.    "  A  few  weeks  more,  perhaps  a  few  davs,  and  I  shall 
19 


290  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

be  in  Kentucky  again.  Tell  my  father,  Evangeline,  what  I  say, 
but  breathe  it  to  none  other." 

The  young  girl  regarded  her  lover  with  amazement.  So  calm, 
so  cheerful,  so  hopeful,  while  she  saw  nothing  but  distress  and  suf- 
fering, she  could  not  realize  that,  the  scene  before  her  was  reality. 

"Bragg  will  be  here  in  a  day  or  two,  Evangeline,  then  you  will 
have  freedom,  and  we  shall  meet  again.  Rest  assured  1  shall  get 
out,  and  the  Confederates  will  hold  the  State." 

"  God  grant  it,  Harry  !  but,  oh,  my  heart  fears,  Harry,  you 
don't  know  what  I  have  suffered  since  you  have  been  in  that 
prison." 

"I  know,  Evangeline.  It  is  hard  to  bear,  but  these  are  times 
of  trial,  and  we  must  not  shrink  from  suffering.  God  shield  you 
from  all  harm.  Be  brave,  never  yield,  Evangeline.  We  will 
meet  again." 

The  order  was  given  to  advance.  Harry  grasped  the  hand  of 
the  young  girl,  looked  upon  her  with  an  expression  so  full  of  love, 
that,  sad  as  it  was  to  Evangeline's  heart,  it  thrilled  it  with  glad 
emotion.  And  with  a  "  God  bless  you,  my  dear  girl,  I'll  write  you 
soon,"  he  followed  on.  Once  he  turned  to  look  back,  Evangeline's 
eyes  were  fixed  upon  him,  and  there  she  remained  gazing,  gazing, 
until  he  mounted  the  steps  to  the  boat,  where,  apart  from  the  rest, 
he  stood  to  bid  her  a  last  adieu.  She  returned  his  salutation,  then 
tearing  herself  away,  she  leaned  on  the  arm  of  her  yet  unknown 
friend,  and  ascended  the  slope  that  led  from  the  river  to  Main 
street,  from  whence  she  found  her  way  with  slow  and  pensive  step 
to  her  now  desolate  home.  In  her  own  room,  apart  from  all  soci- 
ety, she  remained  engaged  with  her  own  plans  and  thoughts 
throughout  the  remainder  of  that  eventful  clay. 


CHAPTER  LIV. 


LEXINGTON — LOUISVILLE. 


When,  on  the  morning  of  the  4th  of  September,  the  Confeder- 
ate army,  under  General  Kirby  Smith,  consisting  of  the  divisions 
of  Gens.  Claiborne  and  Heath,  and  two  brigades,  one. from  Texas, 
the  other  from  Arkansas,  commanded  by  Gen.  Churchill,  marched 
into  Lexington  and  through  its  streets*  it  was  everywhere  received 
with  the  loudest  attestations  o,f  sympathy  and  welcome.      The 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN. 

streets  were  thronged  with  thousands  of  men,  women  and  children 
waving  red  and  blue  ribbons,  small  flags,  handkerchiefs,  and  who 
with  smiles  and  tears  hailed  with  joyous  acclaim  the  presence  of 
the  men  who  had  come  to  deliver  them  from  the  tyranny  of  the 
insolent  oppressor.  Windows  and  galleries — indeed  all  available 
points — were  filled  with  delighted  spectators,  who  appeared  to 
rival  each  other  in  their  manifestations  of  gratitude  and  happiness. 
It  was  a  glad  scene — one  well  calculated  to  cheer  the  h .arts  of 
'  toil-worn  soldiers.  Every  where  substantial  evidences,  in  the  way 
of  baskets  of  provisions  and  buckets  of  cool,  refreshing  water,  met 
the  hungry,  thirsty  men,  hundreds  of  whom  were  in  addition  to 
this,  presented  with  shoes,  blankets,  bats,  overcoats  and 
Their  passage  through  the  town  was  a  grand  ovation.  Never  did 
Roman  Emperor,  returning  from  the  scene  of  victorious  conflict! 
laden  with  the  spoils  of  triumph,  meet  with  more  enthusi 
welcome)  than  did  those  weary,  battle-stained  men,  who  had  en- 
dured every  hardship,  overcome  every  obstacle,  surmounted  every 
difficulty,  that  Kentucky  might  be  free.  All  thanks  to  them.  Let 
their  names  be  perpetuated  in  all  future  history  as  heroes  who 
dared  and  suffered,  and  bled  for  the  right. 

But  if  the  reception  of  the  infantry  was  enthusiastic,  what  shall 
we  say  of  that  of  Colonel  Morgan   and  his  men,  who  now  for  the 
first  tune  in  ten  long  months  of  toil  and   danger,  returned  to  the 
homes  of  their  childhood,  the  bosom  of  their  loved  families  ?     The 
scene  was  one  which  utterly  defies  description.     The  bells  through- 
out the  city  pealed  out  joyously — men,  women  and  young  boys  and 
girls,  with  smiles,  tears,  shouts  and  cheers  rushed  intojhe  stri 
waving  white  handkerchiefs  and  small  Southern  flags,  and  ma  . 
the   very   air   resonant    with    the   strains  of  wildest  joy.     W 
pressed  husbands  to  their  bosoms,  parents  clasped  sons  in  affec- 
tionate embrace.     General  gladness  reigned  throughout  the  \ 
multitude,  and  for  hours  the  most  intense  excitement  every   where 
prevailed.     No  class   was  exempt.     Even  the  negroes  were  eager 
participants  in  the  universal  enjoyment. 

Colonel  Morgan's  forces  were  allowed  but  a  short  time  to  recu- 
perate. But  during  this  brief  interval,  the  .boys,  forgetting  all 
they  had  endured,  gave  themselves  up  unrestrainedly  to  the  joys 
of  home  and  society.  They  visited  their  sweethearts,  went  riding 
with  our  old  friends,  dashed  out  into  the  country,  and  were  toasted, 
feted,  welcomed  every  where. 

A  detachment  of  Colonel  .Morgan's  forces  was  then  sent  forward 
northward  as  far  as  the  Five  Mile  House,  in  front  of  Covington, 
where  for  three  days  they  menaced  the  enemy,  driving  him  \>< 
them  into  his  hastily  constructed  rifle  pits.  Falling  back  from 
this  point,  they  returned  to  Georgetown,  and  from  there  passed 
hastily  on  with  the  view  of  intercepting  the  return  of  the  Federal 
General  Morgan,  in  his  retreat  from  Cumberland  Gap. 

The  Friday  following  General  Bragg's  occupation  of  Bardstown 


292  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

and  the  issuance  of  General  Nelson's  order  for  the  women  and 
children  to  leave  Louisville,  General  Buel!  reached  the  city  with 
.his  worn  and  jaded  army,  and  assumed  command  of  the  place. 
This  restored  confidence  to  a  great  extent,  as  be  was  regarded  by 
both  parties  as  a  wise  and  prudent  man,  who  would  not  unnecessa- 
rily bring  fear  and  suffering  on  the  inhabitants. 

A  week  from  the  date  of  General  Nelson's  order,  he  lay  a  corpse 
at  the  Gait  House,  haying  been  shot  by  Jeff.  C.  Davies,  of  Indi- 
ana, in  an  altercation  provoked  by  himself.  Troops  were  hourly 
pouring  into  the  city  from  across  the 'river  to  swell  the  already 
heavy  army  of  Buell  The  fortifications  were  also  being  strength- 
ened in  every  possible  way,  and  the  panic  which  for  days  had 
reigned  universally,  was  but  little  abated.  During  all  these  days 
of  fearful  suspense,  General  Bragg  was  quietly  resting  at  Bards- 
town,  seemingly  awaiting  the  development  of  General  Baell's  plan. 
His  advance  pickets  had  been  thrown  lorward  to  within  a  few 
miles  of  Louisville,  and  Ihus  the  city  was  constantly  menaced. 

Evangeline  Lenoir  was  aroused  early  on  the  Saturday  morning 
following  her  farewell  to  Harry  Boberts,  by  a  messenger  bearing 
the  following  note: 

My  Dear  Evangeline  : — I  have  escaped  from  my  captors  and 
am  now  safe  at  my  father's  house.  Were  it  not  for  the  fear  of 
betrayal,  I  would  call  to  see  you.  But  my  recent  sad  experience 
makes  me  cautious.  I  shall  leave  before  morning,  to  endeavor  to 
make  my  way  through  to  Lexington,  to  rejoin  Col.  Morgan.  Dare 
I  ask  you?  Will  you  follow  me?  Will  you  forsake  home  and 
friends,  Evangeline,  for  one  who  loves  you  more  than  life  itself, 
and  who  will  do  all  a  devoted  heart  can  do  to  secure  your  happi- 
ness 1  Once  in  the  land  of  freedom,  we  could  be  united,  happy. — 
As  it  is,  we  may  never  meet  again.  Say,  Evangeline,  will  you 
meet  me  at  Lexington  ?  I  can  write  no  more. 
Ever,  my  dear  Evangeline,  yours, 

Harry.     • 

Louisville,  Ky.,  September  28,  1862. 

Evangeline  stood  as  one  electrified,  while  she  read  and  re-read 
the-  note  she  held  in  her  hand.  As  the  breaking  of  the  morning 
light  to  the  weary  pilgrim  who,  mid  storm  and  darkness  has  wan- 
dered on  through  the  tangled  maze  of  the  trackless  wild,  was  this 
joyous  intelligence  to.  the  heart  of  Evangeline.  Since  the  morn- 
ing on  which  she  had  bidden  Harry  adieu  as  the  boat  left,  the 
wharf,  she  had  sorrowed  hopelessly.  All  joy  had  fled  her  dark- 
ened soul — all  hope  died  out  in.  her  stricken  bosom.  Confining 
herself  to  her  room,  avoiding  all  company,  she  brooded  over  her 
deep  grief  and  bitter  disappointment  until  her  brain  was  frenzied, 
and  life  became  a  weary  burden.  The  wild  excitement  which  pre- 
vailed throughout  the  city  failed  to  win  her  attention  for  a  moment, 
and  when  at  table  Mr.  Terrant  would  rally  her  oyer  her  silent  and 
despondent  appearance,  she  would  only  smile  faintly,  and  reply 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  293 

that  nothing  distressed  her  but  the  dreadful  condition  of  the  coun- 
try. Her  uncle,  unsuspecting  man  as  he  was,  ascribed  her  gloom 
to  her  disappointment  at  her  delayed  marriage  wifh  young  Lasley. 

This  gentleman,  fearful  of  being  pressed  into  the  ranks  of  the 
"refugee  defenders"  of  the  city,  hud  wisely  availed  himself  of  the 
furore  of  Monday,  to  return  to  his  home  at  Bardstown.  He  re- 
mained in  Louisville  long  enough  to  see  his  hated  rival  conveyed 
to  the  boat  which  was  to  bear  him  to  Ohio.  Then,  as  if  satisfied 
that  he  was  avenged,  he  hired  a  buggy  and  set  off  at  full  speed 
for  a  place  of  security. 

"  I  will  go,"  said  Evangeline,  determinedly,  to  herself,  as  she 
read  again  Harry's  earnest  request.  A  thousand  obstacles  rose  up 
to  prevent  the  execution  of  her  design,  but  she  heeded  them  not. 
Undaunted  she  looked  at  them,  and  where  she  could  not  devise  a 
plan  to  surmount  them,  she  left  the  difficulty  unsolved,  and  trusted 
herself  to  some  Unforseen  interposition  in  her  behalf. 

After  breakfast,  she  ordered  the  carriage,  and  drove  out  to  Mr. 
R.'s  to  see  Mary  Lawrence.  As  soon  as  she  found  an  opportunity 
to  speak  with  her  alone,  she  showed  her  Harry's  note,  told  her  of 
her  decision,  and  requested  her  advice. 

"  We  will  go  together,  Evangie,"  said  Mary. 

"  And  when  shall  this  be  ?"  asked  Evangeline,  earnestly. 

"Just  as  soon  as  it  is  ascertained  that  the  Confederates  are 
going  to  leave  the  State.  There  is  still  a  hope  that  they  may 
come  to  Louisville,  and  the  strong  possibility  is  they  will  hold 
Kentucky.  The  difficulties  of  getting  through  are  so  great,  we 
will  not.  risk  the  trip  until  it  becomes  necessary." 

"  But,  oh,  Mary,  what  if  the  army  should  go  out,  and  we  be  left 
behind  V 

"That  can  scarcely  occur,  Evangie.  We  shall,  most  undoubt- 
edly, have  some  warning — sufficient,  to  enable  us  to  prepare  and 
get  through." 

"  Have  you  spoken  to  your  friends,  Mary,  of  your  intention  to 
go  to  Lexington .'" 

"  Oh,  yes." 

"And  do  they  approve  this  plan  you  have  just  mentioned  V 

"  Yes ;  it  is  the  advice  of  all  my  friends.  This  is  why  I  have 
adopted  it." 

"  And  you  will  let  me  know,  Mary,  when  you  determine  to  go  ? 
I  must  make  some  preparations,  and  I  will  attend  to  it  immedi- 
ately, so  as  to  be  ready  at  a  moment's  warning.  But  how  shall 
we,  go,  Mary  V 

"  In  a  carriage.  There  is  left  to  us  no  other  alternative.  All 
the  railroads  are  broken  up,  and  no  stages  are  running  now  on  any 
of  the  old  routes.  W j  can  hire  a  carriage  for  the  trip  and  go  by 
way  of  Bardstown.  I  have  an  aunt  there,  and  a  cousin  who  will 
go  through  with  us  and  protect  us." 

"  But  who  will  take  care»of  us  to  that  plaoe,  Mary  V 


294  '  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

"  Lu's  brother  can  go  with  us.  I  know  the  way  well,  have 
traveled  it  often,  and  would  not  feel  the  least  afraid." 

Evangeline,  having  arranged  the  whole  plan  with  her  friend, 
returned  to  the  city  to  make  such  preparation  as  she  thought  ne- 
cessary for  the  trip  before  her.  « 

On  reaching  her  room,  she  found  a  letter  on  her  table  from  her 
aunt.  It  was  directed  to  Mr.  Terrant,  and  in  a  hand-writing  she 
did  not  recognize.  Seizing  it,  she  read  it  hastily  through.  It  was 
an  urgent  request  for  Mr.  Terrant  and  herself  to  set  out  immedi- 
ately for  Indianaopolis  to  see  her  aunt,  who  was  confined  to  her 
bed  seriously  disabled  by  a  fall  she  had  received  in  descending  the 
steps  of  a  hall  where  she  had  been  in  attendance  to  hear  a  war 
speech.  The  appeal  was  most  forcible,  the  language  strongly  set- 
ting forth  the  extent  of  the  sad  accident,  and  Mrs.  Terrant's  most 
earnest  desire  to  see  her  husband  and  niece.  Looking  agaiu  at  the 
table,  Evangeline  discerned  a  note  which  had  fallen  on  the  carpet. 
It  was  addressed  to  her  by  her  uncle,  telling  her  that  he  would 
make  every  preparation  to  leave  on  the  evening  train  for  Indiana- 
opolis, and  she  must  be  ready  to  accompany  him; 
.  "I  cannot  go,"  soliloquized  Evangeline,  as  she  threw  herself 
into  the  large  arm-chair  that  stood  before  the  bright,  coal  fire  that 
was  blazing  in  the  grate.  "  I  cannot  go,  and  it  is  no  use  to  talk 
about  it.  The  Confederates  may  leave  The  State  while  I  am  away, 
and  then  I  should  never  get  South,  and  Harry  would  think  I  had 
deceived  him,  and  Lasley  wiil  annoy  me  to  death  with  his  impor- 
tunities ;  not  that  he  loves  me — no,  no,  the  creature  is  incapable 
ol  love — but  he  is  determined  to  marry  me,  merely  because  he  can- 
not bear  to  be  disappointed  in  his  desires.  Poor,  dear  aunt !  I  do 
wish  I  could  see  her.  She  has  always  been  so  kind  to  me,  and  now 
she  is  away  from  home,  and  suffering  so,  too.  I  ought  to  go. 
It  will  be  so  ungrateful  in  me  to  refuse,  when  she  is  so  anxious  to 
see  me.  She  knows  that  I  can  nurse  her  better  than  any  one  else. 
And  what  reason  can  I  give  for  staying  at  home  1  1  have  none. 
Oh,  I  will  have  to  go  !"  she  added,  after  a  pause,  •'  and  then  if 
the  Southerners  should  get  out  before  I  can  come  back,  what  shall 
I  do — what  shall  I  do  1  I  can't  stay  long.  But  how  am  I  to  get 
back  1  It  will  not  do  to  leave  her  until  she  is  well — this  would 
be  so  unkind.  Oh,  me,  what  shall  I  do  !  I  cannot  go.  But  what 
reason  can  I  offer  uncle  for  refusing  1  I  cannot  tell  him  I  am 
sick,  though  mercy  knows  I  have  suffered  enough  in  the  last  week 
to  kill  me.  I  dare  not  say  I  am  afraid  to  go,  for  that  is  a  place  of 
safety— this  of  danger — and  to  urge  any  dislike  to  the  Tankees, 
when  my  poor  aunt  needs  me!  Oh,  that  I  was  ready  to  set  out 
for  Lexington  this  very  hour  !  I  would  run  all  risks,  take  all  con- 
sequences, if  I  could  but  go  through.  This  world  might  say  what 
it  could,  it  could  not  harm  me  then." 

She  took  up  the  letter  that  had  been  resting  on  her  lap  during 
her  soliloquy,  and  read  it  again.    "  I  shall  have  to  go  to  poor,  dear 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  295 

aunt.  I  would  never  forgive  myself  if  she  should  die  and  I  not 
see  her.  I  will  stay  a  few  days  and  then  come  back.  But  how 
can  I  get  away  1  Aunt/will  think  so  strangely,  of  my  wishing  to 
return  before  she  is  well.  I  must  go,  and  /  must  return  in  a  few 
days,"  she  said,  energetically,  as  she  arose  and  walked  to  the  win- 
dow. 

The  carriage  stood  waiting  to  take  her  down  street.  Pausing  a 
moment  to  cousider,  she  took  her  escritoir,  wrote  a  note  to  Mary 
Lawrence,  explanatory  of  circumstances,  and  urging  upon  her  to 
write  to  her  at  Indianaopolis  each  day,  that  she  might  be  kept  in- 
formed of  what  was  passing,  and  of  the  unfolding  of  her  plans. 
Then  ringing  the  bell,  she  ordered  Emily  to  put  her  clothes  into 
her  trunk,  and  h^ive  everything  ready  for  her  departure. 

"  My  small  trunk.  Emily.  I  shall  be  back  in  a  few  days.  Put 
up  such  dresses  as  are  suitable  for  a  sick  room.  I  shall  have  no 
use  for  evening  and  dinner  dresses,  only  wrappers  and  one  or  two 
street  suits.     Be  careful,  Emily,  heed  what  1  say  to  you.'' 

With  these  directions,  Evangeline  descended  the  stairway,  and 
taking  the  carriage,  drove  to  one  of  the  most  extensive  stores  on 
Fourth  street.  Alighting,  she  made  such  purchases  as  she  desired, 
and  ordering  the  packages  done  up  directly,  took  them  with  her  to 
her  mantua-maker,  where  she  left  directions  for  the  making  of  the 
dresses,  requesting  that  they  should  be  finished  by  the  middle  of 
the  following  week  and  seut  home.  From  the  mantua-maker's  she 
drove  to  Merriman's  cloak  store,  and  quickly  selected  a  very  gen- 
teel drab  cloth  traveling-cloak.  She  then  proceeded  to  her  millen- 
er's,  ordered  a  travel ing-bonnet,  and  calling  at  Mrs.  Ilitchy's  fan- 
cy store,  purchased  gloves,  collars,  handkerchiefs,  «fcc.,  &c.  hav- 
ing bought  all  she  deemed  necessary,  she  returned  home,  and  oc- 
cupied the  time  until  dinner  in  preparing  her  traveling  trunk,  so 
that  she  might  be  ready  on  her  return  to  set  out  for  the  Confeder- 
ate lines  at  an  hour's  warning.  As  she  placed  in  the  last  articles, 
including  her  morning  purchases,  she  told  Emily  to  be  sure  to  fold 
the  dresses  which  would  be  sent  home  Wednesday  evening  of  the 
following  week,  and  put  them  into  the  trunk. 

"  Going  to  travel  again,  Miss  Vangie  V 

"  Perhaps  so,  Emily,"  she  replied,  carelessly.  "  Tt  may  be 
1  shall  have  to  send  for  my  truuk.  I  wish  to  have  all  things 
ready." 

"  Yes,  Miss  Vangy,  you  are  very  right.  These  troublesome 
times  it's  well  to  be  ready  for  anything  that  turns  up." 

The  evening  found  her  with  her  uncle  on  their  way  to  Indiana- 
opolis. On  reaching  that  city,  they  found  Mrs.  Terrant  far  better 
tbau  was  expected.  The  injury,  which  at  the  time  of  the  fall  had 
appeared  quite  serious,  upon  further  examination  had  been  found 
to  be  comparatively  slight,  and  the  physician  assured  Mr.  Terrant 
that  his  wife  would  be  in  a  condition  to  return  home  in  eight  or 
ten  days. 


296  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

On  the  fifth  evening  after  Evangeline's  arrival  in  Indianaopolis, 
she  received  a  hasty  note  from  Mary  Lawrence,  informing  her  that 
she  had  decided  to  leave  for  Bardstown  the  following  week,  and 
urged  upon  Evangeline  to  return  immediately. 

"What  shall  1  d<5!"  exc  aimed  Evangeline  to  herself,  as  the 
hand  that  held  the  letter  fell  heavily  on  her  lap.  "  Aunt  cannot 
travel  yet,  uncle  is  gone,  there  is  no  one  to  accompany  me.  What 
thall  1  plead  as  an  excuse  for  returning  so  soon  1  and  how  can  I 
serenade  aunt  to  let  me  go  alone?  I  must  go — this  I  am  deter- 
mined on,  and  must  leave  on  the  next  train.  If  I  delays  Mary 
may  set  out  without  me,  and  then  all  hope  of  getting  South  is 
gone — forever  gone."  Rising  from  her  seat,  she  passed  into  her 
aunt's  room,  and  stood  beside  the  large  cushioned  chair  on  which 
that  lady  was  sitting.     She  bore  the  letter  in  her  hand. 

"  What  news  from  Louisville,  Vangie,"  asked  her  aunt,  looking 
up  and  seeing  the  letter. 

"  Oh,  nothing  unusual,  in  a  military  point,  aunty.  This  note  is 
from  Mary  Lawrence,  who  urges  me  to  return  immediately." 
Evangeline  hushed  down  her  feelings,  resolving  to  be  calm.  She 
had  a  part  to  play  ;  she  must  do  it  well,  or  all  would  be  lost. 

"And  what  is  the  matter,  Evangie,  that  Mary  should  request 
you  to  return  home  at  a  time  like  this  ?" 

"  Some  affair  of  her  own,  aunty.  You  know  I  must  not  betray 
confidence,"  and  the  gay  girl  laughed  and  blushed  deeply. 

"  Ah,  you  need  not  try  to  deceive  me,  child.  Mary  Lawrence  is 
going  to  be  married  to  Fred.  Morton.  Well,  well,  that  is  all  right. 
If  she  ever  intends  to  marry  him  she  ought  to  do  it  now.  Then, 
if  he  should  be  wounded,  she  can  wait  on  him,  or  if  killed,  she  will 
have  a  right  to  mourn  for  him.  But  you  cannot  go,  Evangie,  for 
several  days.  You  know  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  accompany  you 
now,  and  you  cannot  go  alone.    When  is  the  wedding  to  be  ?" 

Evangeline  hesitated  a  moment.  Should  she  continue  to  deceive 
her  aunt,  or,  undeceiving  her,  depend  upon  her  powers  of  persua- 
sion to  influence  her  to  let  her  undertake  the  trip  alone?  Intuitive- 
ly, for  she  had  no  time  to  reason,  she  concluded  to  let  her  aunt 
enjoy  her  own  opinion,  and,  looking  at  the  letter  again,  she 
answered : 

"  She  says  not  a  word  about  the  day  ;  only  urges  me  to  come 
immediately,  not  to  delay  a  moment." 

"  But  how  are  you  to  go,  Evangeline  ?  It  is  impossible.  She 
had  better  be  married  without  you,  than  for  you  to  risk'  yourself 
alone,  now  that  the  country  is  so  filled  with  soldiers  traveling  to 
and  fro.  Write  to  her  and  tell  her  you  cannot  come  for  a  few  days. 
As  soon  as  I  get  well  enough,. I  will  go  -with  you.  Perhaps  the 
case  is  not  so  urgent  as  she  represents  it ;  and,  moreover,  if  she  is 
to  be  married  in  a  day  or  two,  she  can  do  without  you ;  it  will  be 
a  small  wedding,  of  course — very  few  present." 

"Oh,  aunty,"  said  Evangeline,  most  persuasively,  "  I  do  wish 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  2  97 

you  could  go  with  me.  Don't  you  feel  well  enough.  You  know 
you  can  be  still  when  you  get  on  the  cars.  I  will  attend  to  you 
and  the  baggage — you  shall  have  no  oorasion  1o  exert  yourself  at 
all.  I  am  so  anxious  to  go.  You  know  Mary  is  one  of  my  dear- 
est friends,  and  she  has  no  sister,  and  no  mother,  aunty.  She  is 
so  alone  in  the  world,  I  must  go  to  her  now  ;  she  would  never 
forgive  me  if  I  did  not." 

"  Let  me  see  the  letter,  child.  Does  she  give  no  reason  why 
she  wishes  you  to  come  right  away  ?" 

"  Oil,  it  is  marked  secret,  aunty,"  replied  Evangeline,  her  color 
deepening.  "  Mary  wishes  me  to  shew  the  letter  to  no  one,  but 
says,  come  without  delay.  Can't  you  go,  aunty  ?  Here  is  Doc- 
tor Floss  coming  up  the  avenue;  if  he  says  you  may  go  with  me, 
won't  you,  this  very  morning  V 

"  Oh,  my  child,  I  cannot ;  even  were  I  well  enough,  and  I 
know  I  am  not,  1  could  not  get  ready  this  evening." 

Doctor  Floss  entered  the  room.  Evangeline  made  known  her 
desire. 

"  What  do  you  say,  doctor  V  she  asked  eagerly.  "  Can't  aunty 
go  with  met     She  is  well  enough  for  the   t rip,  isn't  she  .'" 

The  old  man  shook  his  head.  "  Not  for  several  days  will  your 
aunt  be  in  a  condition  to  travel." 

"  Well,  aunty,  I  will  go  this  evening,  and  send  uncle  after  you," 
sbe  said,  most  determinedly,  though  her  heart  beat  doubt ingly  as 
she  spoke.     "  I  am  not  a  bit  afraid,  and  if  I  were,  I  would  feel 

•  it  my  duty  to  risk  everything  to  gratify  Mary." 

"  What  do  you  think,  doctor — will  it  be  prudent  for  my  niece 
to  go  to  Kentucky  alone  in  these  troublesome  times  ?" 

The  old  man,  who  had  been  raised  in  Connecticut  where  females 
travel  unprotected,  looked  at  the  matter  in  a  business-like  view 
entirely,  not  for  a  moment  considering  it  in  the  light  of  pro- 
priety. 

"  1  think  she  might  go  safely,  madam,  if  she  is  willing  to  un- 
dertake the  trip." 

"Thank  you,  doctor,  thank  you!"  exclaimed  Evangeline.  "Dr. 
Floss  knows  there  is  no  danger,  aunty  ;  and  you  know  1  am  not 
one  bit  afraid.  How  long  before  the  ears  leave  for  Louisville, 
doctor — will  I  have  time  to  get  ready  1" 

"  Just  two  hours  before  the  western  train  will  be  in,''  said  the 
old  man,  taking  out  his  double-cased  silver  watch,  which  had  mea- 
sured the  time  for  him  for  the  last  twenty  years  of  his  practice. 

"  Oh,  I  could  get  ready  for  a  trip  to  Europe  in  two  hours. 
Aunty,  may  1  go  1     I  know  you  will  not  deny  me.     Doctor,  won't 

•  you  take  me  to  the  cars,  and  see  my  baggage  safely  on  them  ?     I 
shall  have  nothing  to  do  but  be  quiet  until  1  reach  home." 

The  doctor  readily  assented  to  act  as  her  escort.  Her  aunt 
protested  against  the  undertaking,  but  Evangeline  had  too  much 
at  stake  to  submit  to  any  opposition.     Most.wonderfuliy  preserving 


298  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

her  equanimity,  she  made  all  necessary  preparations,  and  when 
Dr.  Floss  drove  up  at  the  appointed  hour,  she  was  ready,  bonnet- 
ed, awaiting  him. 

Bidding  her  aunt  an  affectionate  farewell,  and  enjoining  her  to 
come  home  as  soon  as  possible,  she  seated  herself  beside  the  doc- 
tor, who  drove  her  to  the  depot  and  placed  her  on  the  cars,  attend- 
ing to  every  minutiae  that  would  enhance  her  comfort. 

In  the  excitement  of  achieving  her  purpose,  Evangeline  had  had 
no  time  for  reflection  or  reason.  She  could  entertain  but  the  one 
thought,  that  of  reaching  Louisville  in  time  to  set  out  with  Mary 
Lawrence  for  Lexington.  When  alone  she  was,  left  to  her  own 
reflections,  the  momentousness  of  the  step  she  was  taking  rushed 
in  upon  her  mind  with  overwhelming  power,  and  she  shrunk  back 
as  the  picture,  in  all  its  grand  and  fearful  proportions,  rose  up 
before  her.  Tremblingly  she  contemplated  it,  aud  as  she  examined 
it  in  all  its  shades  and  colorings,  she  stood  back  aghast  at  the 
magnitude  of  its.gigantic  dimensions.  Would  she  succeed  ]  this 
was  the  momentous  question.  Once  the  wife  of  Harry  Roberts, 
she  defied  the  sneers  and  jests  of  the  unappreeiative  public.  She 
could  look  down  from  the  heights  of  her  security,  and  laugh  at 
those  who  would  endeavor  to- assail  her.  But,  then,  the  fearful 
opposite  !  Should  she  fail  in  her  attempt,  and  her  plans  and  futile 
endeavors  be  exposed  to  the  cold,  heartless  world  !  How  could 
she  live  beneath  its  power-r-how  submit  to  its  coarse  remarks  and 
unfeeling  opinions  !  She  felt  that  her  proud,  independent  spirit 
could  never  brook  this  deep  trial — this  sad,  enduring  mortification, 
which  must  ever  haunt  her  life.  Poor,  tried  Evangeline  !  thou  art, 
indeed,  entering  in  upon  a  path  beset  with  trial  and  danger ! 


CHAPTER  LV. 

IS      THERE      NO      LIGHT/ 

The  morning  after  Evangeline  reached  Louisville,  she  drove  out 
to  Mr.  R/s  to  ascertain  when  Mary  Lawrence  would  leave  for 
Lexington.  She  found  her  young  friend  in  the  midst  of  prepara- 
tion, but  foiled  in  the  plan  which  she  had  hoped  to  consummate  on 
the  following  day.  She  was  now  uncertain  when  she  should  leave. 
This  gave  Evangeline  more  time  to  perfect  her  arrangements,  and 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  209 

although  it  hut  prolonged  the  suspense  which  she  felt  almost  unen- 
durable, yet,  for  some  reasons,  she  was  glad  of  the  delay.  Apply- 
ing herself  with  the  utmost  assiduity  to  the  task  before  her,  unad- 
vised and  unassisted,  she  succeeded,  in  a  few  days,  in  completing 
all  arrangements  deemed  by  her  necessary  for  her  proposed  trip. 
Her  trunk  was  conveyed  to  Mr.  It.'s  to  await  the  day  of  departure. 
Her  uncle,  all  unsuspecting,  furnished  her  with  what  funds  she  de- 
sired, and  with  miser's  care  she  hoarded  them,  that  she  might  be 
ready  to  meet  future  exigencies.  Meanwhile,  she  received  no  intel- 
ligence from  young  Lasley.  she  had  expected  to  be  annoyed  by 
the  reception  of  letters,  or  perhaps  the  intrusion  of  bis  presence. 
Why  be  was  thus  silent  she  was  at  a  loss  to  divine,  but,  amid  her 
wonder,  she  was  grateful  to  be  relieve  1  of  this  feature  of  her  per- 
plexity. Ah,  could  she  have  known  what  that  silence  portended — * 
could  she  have  read  the  secret  workings  of  that  heart,  bent  on  its 
dark,  fiendish  purposes — have  understood  its  ad  of  cruel  revemre — 
how  Would  her  soul  have  sunk  within  her!  how  would  she  "have 
fainted  beneath  The  torturing  burden!  Anguish  deep,  dark,  unut- 
terable would  have  seized  the  very  life-springs  of  her  being,  and 
she  would  have  sought  death  rather  than  life.  Bobbed  of  joy — 
her  every  hope  perished — the  light  of  the  future  changed  to  ray- 
less  darkness — what  would  there  have  been  upon  which  the  weary 
soul  could  have  leaned  for  support — what,  to  which  the  poor,  broken 
heart  could  have  looked  for  consolation  !  Well  it  was  for  her,  sur- 
rounded as  she  was  by  uncertainty,  her  bosom  each  moment  the 
prey  of  doubt  and  anxiety,  that  the  sad  intelligence  could  not  reach 
her.  Well,  that  while  the  cloud  gathered  over  her  pathway,  she 
saw  not  its  black  folds — heard  not  its  fearful  thunders  ! 

Incarcerated  in  the  prison  at  Bardstown,  shut  out  from  the  light 
of  day,  surrounded  by  a  Federal  guard,  with  the  penalty  of  death 
overshadowing  his  soul,  lay  Harry  Roberts,  hopeless,  sad,  despair- 
ing. It  was  the  6th  of  October,. the  day  of  the  sanguinary  battle 
of  Perry ville.  He  knew  not  of  the  conflict  that  was  then  raging, 
ail  he  knew  was  the  wretchedness  of  his  condition — the  utter  hope- 
lessness of  his  future.  And  for  the  first  time  amid  the  varied  for- 
tunes that  had  beset  his  path  for  the  last  twelve  months,  did  he 
despair.  He  thought  of  Evangeline,  of  his  request,  with  which  he 
felt  confident  she  would  endeavor  to  comply — of  her  endeavors  to 
join  him,  her  hopes,  her  fears,  the  risks  she  would  run,  and  then  of 
her  overwhelming  grief  when  she  should  learn  his  dark  fate;  of 
the  bitterness  of  her  disappointment,  the  awkwardness  other  posi- 
tion, when  she  should  find  herself  a  stranger  in  a  strange  land,, 
away  from  home  and  friends,  alone,  unprotected,  exposed  to  the 
vicissitudes  of  war,  with  the  deep  mortification  of  failure  to  encoun- 
ter, the-reproach  of  Union  friends,  who  wTould  rejoice  at  her  sor- 
row, and  taunt  her  with  her  want  of  success  ;  of  the  entire  helpless- 
ness of  her  Southern  friends  to  extricate  her  from  the  tortures  of 
her  portion — all  this,  like  a  living  panorama,  passed  before  him 


300  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

to  heighten  his  distress  and  increase  the  horrors  of  his  imprison- 
ment. Death  he  felt  would  be  a  sweet  relief,  were  it  not  that  the 
happiness  of  another  was  involved  in  his  fate.  But  in  the  darkest 
moments,  the  thought  of  Evangeline  would  nerve  him,  and  he  re- 
solved that  whatever  fate  awaited  him  he  would  live  for  her 
sake. 

Gloating  with  delight  over  his  successful  revenge,  feasting  with 
a  fiendish  joy  at  the  contemplation  of  the  picture  of  the  distress  he 
had  wrought,  Lasley  delighted  to  recount  to  hjs  friends  in  vice  ' 
and  dissipation  the  achievement  of  his  desires.'  He  had  vanquish- 
ed his  hated  rival,  humiliated  the  heart  of  her  whom  he  had  pro- 
fessed to  love,  foiling  all  their  plans,  darkening  their  every  joy. 

Young  Roberts,  believing  it  more  practicable  to  join  the  Con- 
federate army  at  Bardstown  than  at  Lexington,  had  attempted  to  \ 
reach  that  point.  At  every  step  he  encountered  the  danger  of 
discovery.  His  progress  was  retarded  by  the  movement  of  the 
•Federal  troops,  who  now  thronged  every  road  from  Louisville  that 
led  out  in  the  direction  of  Bardstown.  As  he  made  his  way  cau- 
tiously from  house  to  house  along  the  route,  he  heard  that  General 
Bragg  had  left  Bardstown,  and  was  falling  back  upon  Camp  Dick 
Robinson.  The  rumors  of  his  movements  were  conflicting  and 
unreliable,  and  Roberts  determined  to  prosecute  his  first  intention. 
Accordingly,  he  pursued  his  way  to  Bardstown.  Reaching  that 
place,  he  found  it  in  the  possession  of  Federal  troops.  Being 
known  to  no  one  save  young  Lasley,  of  whose  implacable  hatred 
towards  him  he  knew  nothing,  and  being  dressed  in  citizen's 
clothing,  he  felt  no  fear  of  recognition,  and  ventured  to  walk  the 
streets  in  open  day,  to  see  if  he  could  ascertain  the  true  position 
of  General  Bragg,  and  his  safest  route  to  join  him.  He  was  walk- 
ing leisurely  along  towards  the  hotel  when  he  met  Lasley  walking 
between  two  young  men.  The  two  immediately  recognized  each 
other.  Roberts,  smiling,  bowed.  Lasley  bowed  coldly.  The 
two  passed  on.  After  proceeding  a  few  steps,  Harry  turned  to 
look  after  Lasley.  He  discovered  one  of  the  men  he  had  seen 
with  him  following  on  his  steps,  while  Lasley  and  the  other  were 
hastily  crossing  the  street  towards  a  group  of  soldiers.  Fearing 
that  some  evil  threatened  him,  Harry  made  his  way  as  fast  as  he 
could  to  the  hotel.  As  he  entered  the  door  of  the  bar-room,  he 
observed  the  individual  that  had  been  following  him  pass  by  the 
door  and  cross  the  street  to  the  right.  Harry  stood  a  few  min- 
utes as  if  uncertain  how  to  proceed.  Then  walking  to  the  door, 
■he looked  cautiously  out.  There  was  no  appearance  of  danger — 
no  blue  coats  were  to  be  seen  in  the  street.  He  breathed  more 
freely.  Believing  that  his  fears  were  wholly  unfounded,  he  re- 
turned and  quietiy  seated  himself  in  one  corner,  where  he  would 
be  free  from  observation,  There  were  three  other  nien  in  the 
room  beside  the  bar-keeper,  who  were  all  rejoicing  together  over 
the  certain  retreat  of  the  rebels  from  the  State.     Harry 'listened 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  301 

4 

attentively  to  all  they  said,  endeavoring  to  gather  from  ilieir  loud 
and  confused  statements  any  information  that  would  serve  him  in 
the  future.  The  bar-keeper  joined  the  trio  in  their  tirade  of  in- 
vective against  the  rebels,  and  the  four  were  most  unsparing  in 
their  wild  denunciation  of  everything  Confederate.  Harry  felt 
the  blood  rush  To  his  face  and  the  words  to  his  lips,  but  prudence 
dictated  silence,  and  he  choked  down  his  swelling  indignation  as 
best  he  could,  and  assumed  an  air  of  indifference.  Looking  out 
of  the  window  into  the  cross  street,  he  was  not  aware  of  the  ap- 
proach of  any  one  until  he  heard  a  heavy  foot-fall  at  the  door. 
He  suddenly  turned  his  head  in  that  direction.  His  gaze  encoun- 
tered three  Yankee  soldiers  approaching  him.  One  stepped  for* 
ward  and  laying  his  hand  on  his  shoulder  said,  in  a  harsh  tone, 
"You  are  my  prisoner,  follow  me!" 

"  How  dare  yon  arrest  me  !"  said  Harry,  gazing  sternly  into  the 
face  of  his  oaptor,  determined  to  try  the  force  of  bravado.  It 
was  his  only  weapon,  "  How  dare  you  arrest  me,  I  ask-,  a  peace- 
able citizen  !     Show  me  your  authority." 

The  soldier  was  a  man  of  nerve,  and  returning  Harry's  look 
with  one  equally  as  (inn  and  unyielding,  he  very  quickly  and 
without,  the  least  perturbation,  responded  : 

"  You  need  not  try  to  deceive  me.  Y'ou  are  one  of  Morgan's 
men  who  has  escaped  from  prison.  Come  with  me — no  words,  I 
have  no  time  for  discussion."  • 

Harry  saw  that  he  must  yield,  It  was  useless  to  resist.  Calm- 
ly he  arose  from  his  chair  and  walked  out  between  the  soldiers. 
As  he  passed  along  the  street  that  led  to  the  prison,  he  saw  on  the 
Opposite  side  Laslev  and  his  two  companions,  who  were  laughing 
and  talking  together.  He  knew  that  he  was  the  subject  of  their 
remarks,  the  cause  of  their  merriment,  and  with  the  ferocity  of  a 
demon  lie  scowled  upon  them.  It^was.all  he  could  do.  He  dared 
not  speak.     He  knew  the  heart lessness  of  his  enemies. 

The  prison  door  was  closed,  he  was  left  alone  with  his  thoughts. 
Silent  and  morose  he  sat,  dwelling  on  the  hopelessness  of  his 
fate.  The  hope  that  had  cheered  him  during  his  previous  impris- 
onment wrfs  now  gone.  He  could  see  no  way  of  escape.  He 
knew  now  that  he  should  be  watched  with  the  greatest  vigilance, 
from  the  fact  that  he  had  once  evaded  them.  As  he  sat  sad  and 
desponding,  his  head  bowed,  and  his  whole  attitude  expressive  of 
the  despair  that  filled  his  soul,  he  heard  one  of  the  guard  outside 
say  to  another  : 

"  We  have  whipped  the  rebels  all  to  pieces  at  Perryville.  A 
man  has  just,  readied  here,  and  says  they  have  been  fighting  there 
since  yesterday  morning,  and  are  still  fighting,  and  the  rebels  are 
being  slaughtered  like  sheep."       • 

Harry  started-,  and  applying  bis  ear  to  the  key  hole  listened  at- 
tentively. 

The  two  continued  their  conversation  only  a  few  minutes.    He 


302  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

gathered  from  what. he  heard  that  the  Confederates  were  sadly 
whipped.  Were  this  the  case,  he  knew  they  would  have  to  re- 
treat from  the  State  as  best  they  could.  It  would  be  impossible 
for  them  to  remain  if  the  first  engagement  should  terminate  so 
disastrously. 

"  What  will  become  of  Evangeline?"  he  said  to  himself,  bitter- 
ly, as  he  resumed  his  seat  on  the  old  stool,  and  buried  his  face  in 
his  hands,  while  the  great  drops  that  he  could  not  force  back 
streamed  through  his  fingers.  "  If  I  knew  she  was  safe,  I  should 
ask  no  more.  Oh,  God  take  care  of  her,  and  shield  her  from  all 
danger  V  he  exclaimed,  vehemently,  as  he  sprang  from  his  seat 
^nd  paced  his  narrow  room. 

Haunted  by  his  fears  for  her  whom  he  loved,  oppressed  undo/ 
a  sense  of  his  utter  inability  to  aid  her  in  any  way,  lost  to  all  hope 
in  his  own  case,  he  was  as  one  bereft  of  reason.  Frenzied  he  walk- 
ed to  and  tro,  until  exhausted  from  the  severe  exertion,  he  sank 
again  on  the  hard  stool. 

Could  his  heartless  persecutor  have  seen  him  as  he  sat  there 
ready  to  sink  under  the  weight  of  his  fearful  doom,  surely  he 
would  have  felt  that  he  was  fully  avenged.  This  unfeeling  crea- 
ture was  reveling  in  dissipation  and  vice,  while  his  victbn  was 
writhing  in  anguish.  Why,  oh,  wlfy  is  it  that  the  base  and  grov- 
eling are  often  so  prosperous,  are  permitted  to  sit  in  high  places 
and  grind  beneath  their  crushing  injustice  the  proud  and  noble 
soul,  who  finds  no  means  of  defence,  no  power  of  redress  1 

When  these  anomalous  aspects  of  human  society  present  them- 
selves,'we  are  led  to  ask  is  there  a  hand  of  inflexible  justice  deal- 
ing out  to  all,  impartially,  the  reward  of  their  deeds  !  If  so,  why 
do  the  wicked  and  debased  prosper,  and  why  are  the  true  and  ele- 
vated dashed  to  the  earth  beneath  their  infamous  power  V  Philo- 
sophy cannot  solve  the  question.  Enigmatical  it  must  ever  re- 
main to  that  man  who  seeks  -not  its  solution  in  the  words  of  heav- 
enly wisdom,  which  tells  us,  "  When  the  wicked  spring  as  the 
grass,  and  .when  all  the  workers  of  iniquity  do  flourish,  it  is  that 
they  shall  be  destroyed  forever.  For  yet  a  little  while  and  the 
wicked  shall  not  be,  yea  thou  shalt  diligently  consider  his  place 
and  it  shall  not  be." 

Harry  Roberts  sat  in  his  dark,  noisome  prison  filled  with  the 
most  despondent  thoughts.  He  could  see  no  gleam  of  light,  look 
which  way  he  might.  His  future  was.  without  promise.  He  saw 
nothing  before  him  but  capitivity,  ending  in  death.  He  felt  that 
having- once  escaped,  he  would  hereafter  be  the  object  of  increased 
vigilance  and  of  additional  insult.  .  And  when  he  looked  away  to 
the  idol  of  his  soul's  adoration,  the  gloom  deepened,  until  a.l  was 
cheerless  night.  Could  he  shield  her  from  suffering,  chagrin,  dis- 
appointment, he  would  not  murmur  at  his  own  fate.  It  wa^,  for 
Evangeline  far  more  than  himself  that  ke  sorrowed!  But  how  un- 
availing all  this  grief!     He  could  give  her  no  assistance,  no  pro- 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  303 

tection.  To  a  proud  self-reliant  spirit  this  sense  of  utter  inability 
to  shield  of  defend  a  loved  one  was  maddening.  Robbed  of  tbe 
power  to  exereise  that  right  of  protecting  the  weak  and  dependent, 
a  noble  man  sinks  in  his  own  estimation  to  nothingness.  How 
many  a  brave,  defiant  Southern  heai  t  has  had  to  endure  this  un- 
speakable humiliation  since  the  war  began  ! 

While  Harry  was  groping  his  way  amid  the  darkness  of  the 
present  and  future,  Evangeline  and  her  friend,  Mary,  were  pursu- 
ing their  way  towards  Bardstown.  Having  obtained  a  permit, 
they  qptertained  but  little  apprehension  of  annoyance  or  delay  from 
the  Federal  pickets  that  guarded  the  rnad  over  which  they  had  to. 
pass.  They  were  accompanied  by  Willie  I\..  the  younger  brother 
of  Charley,  who  was  to  escort  them  to  Bardstown,  at  which  point 
they  were  to  place  themselves  under  the  charge  of  Mary's  cousin, 
who  would  give  them  safe  conduct  to  Lexington,  if  it  were  possible 
to  reach  that  city  ;  if  not,  they  were  to  be  ta  ten  within  Confederi  be 
lines,  and  there  remain  until  Mr.  Lawrence,  or  Ids  sod,  or  young 
Roberts  could  lie  beard  from. 

On  the  two  girls  traveled,  the  subject  of  alternate  hope  and 
fear.  At  one  moment  the  prospect  before  them  appeared  cheer- 
ing— the  plan  agreed  upon  so  feasible,  success  so  certain — and 
then  again  all  was  doubt,  difficulty, failure.  To  Evangeline, who  was 
leaving  behind  her  all  the  friends  ami  associations  of  her  girlhood, 
bidding  them  adieu  forever,  to  go  forth  in  a  strange  land  where 
there  would  be  but  one  bearl  to  appreciate  her  sacrilices — many  to 
turn  with  coldness  away,  some  to  censure — to  her  young  ardent 
Boul  the  journey  before  them  was  one  of  the  most  momentous 
bearing.  Vain  were  it  to  attempt  a  description  of  her  varied  and 
conflicting  thoughts  and  emotions.  Sometimes  she  would  weep 
sadly  ,as  the  probabilities  of  disappointment  and  consequent  mor-tili- 
cation  ro.e  up  vividly  before  her  excited  imagination;  then  aga  n 
she  was  wild  wiih  blissful  anticipations  of  the  glad  future  ibat 
opened  before  her,  when  all  her  trials  passed  shonld  safely  repose  on 
the  bosom  of  him  for  whom  she  had  yielded  up  every  promise  which 
so  brightly  beamed  over  her  pathway — should  listen  to  his  burn- 
ing words  of  love — receive  the  full  and  tender  sympathy  of  his  pure, 
affectionate  soul — rest  on  his  strong  arm  for  protection,  and  claim 
him  her  own  for  life.  It  was  a  strange  novel  undertaking  for  one  so 
young,  one  reared  in  tluj  indulgence  of  every  desire,  however  wild 
or  capricious,  but  Evangeline  possessed,  all  unknown  to  herself  and 
her  friends,  the  characteristics  of  a  heroine.  Independence  of 
thought  and  feeling,  determination  to  brave  di  Bculties  and  endure 
hardships,  a  commendable  freedom  from  the  trammels  of  public  opin- 
ion, wTil  to  jtccomplish  undertakings  although  fraught  with  danger 
— all  these  were  traits  of  character  which  a  close  observer  would 
have  marked  as  possessed  by  her.  And  now  the  incentive  of  love — 
of  deep,  deathless  affection  for  him  to  whom  she  had  given  her  heart, 
called  into  exercise  and  prompted  to  unwonted  energy  these  ele- 


304  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

ments  of  character  which,  for  want  of  opportunity  to  make  them- 
selves manifest,  bad  been  hitherto  comparatively  dormant. 

Mary  shared  her  young  friend's  alternate  gloom  and  joy.'  There 
was  even  a  darker  cloud  in  her  horizon,  one  that  overshadowed 
all  the  brightness  of  her  future  landscape.  It  was  the  uncer- 
tainty with  regard  to  Chatley's  fate  which  hourly'  haunted  her 
thoughts. 

"  Is  be  dead  1"  was  the  question  that  constantly  recurred  to  her 
mind,  and  the  possibility  that  this  might  be  so  took  away  the  light 
that  was  otherwise  gilding  the  eventful  life  she  was  now  entering 
upon.  That  she  should  meet  her  father  and  brother  she  did  not 
for  a  moment  doubt.  She  had  set  out  to  do  this,  and  she  calcu- 
lated upon  no  failure.  She  might  encounter  many  difficulties, 
but  it  was  practicable  and  must  be  achieved. 

It  was  late  at  night  when  they  reached  Bardstown,  they  having 
been  delayed  on  the  way  by  the  breaking  of  one  of  tlw  axle-trees 
to  the  carriage.  Most  persons  had  retired  at  the  hotel  at.  which 
they  rested  fur  the  night,  so  that  they  had  no  opportunity  of  learn- 
ing anything  respecting  the  relative  position  of  the  two  armies. 
Weary,  and  worn  they  sought  their  room,  after  having  partaken  of 
a  cup  of  tea  and  some  cold  bread  which  the  landlord  had  hastily 
prepared  for  them. 

Morning  came  and  found  them  sleeping  after  the  fatigue  of  their 
journey,  The  sun  was  shining  fully  when  Mary  awoke.  It  had 
been  their  plan  to  drive  out  to  her  aunt's  before  breakfast,  that 
they  might  proceed  several  miles  on  their  way  during  the  day. 

Awakening  Evangeline,  the  two  made  a  hasty  toilet  and  de- 
scended to  the  breakfast  room.  They  were  but  just  seated  at  the 
table  when  three  young  gentlemen  entered  and  placed  themselves 
near  the  foot  of  the  table,  on  the  same  side  with  themselves.  Nei- 
ther of  the  young  girls  looked  towards  them.  They  were  scarce- 
ly in  their  places  before  a  middle-aged  man,  who  was  enjoying  his 
coffee  and  hot  roll  on  the  opposite  side,  called  out  in  rather  a  loud 
tone  of  voice  : 

"  What  news  this  morning,  Lasley  ?    I  hear  a  courier  is  in." 

At  the  mention  of  the  name  Evangeline  started,  looked  sudden- 
ly around,  and  turned  deadly  pale.  The  young  man  who  sat  next 
her  observed  the  movement,  and  fixed  bis  eye  upon  .her  iu  cu- 
rious wonder.  She  was  aware  of  his  curious  gaze,  and  she  strove 
to  calm  herself.  His  companions  reading  his  surprise  in  the  ex- 
pression of  his  face,  followed  his  example  and  directed  their  look 
towards  the  head  of  the  table  where  the  two  girls  sat.  Evange- 
line was  trembling  with  emotion,  vainly  endeavoring  to  preserve 
an  unmoved  exterior.  Mary  saw  her  agitation,  and  measurably 
partook  of  it,  as  she  realized  that  the  attention  of  all  at  table  was 
directed  to  them.  Despite  herself,  the  blood  would  mount  to  her 
face,  and  her  hand  perceptibly  quivered  as  she  conveyed  the  cup 
of  coffee  to  her  lips. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  305 

Across  young  Lasley's  face  there  shot  a  look  of  triumph,  and 
in  his  eye  there  gleamed  an  expression  of  revengeful  satisfaction, 
as  he  became  assured  of  the  presence  of  his  helpless  victim. 

Elevating  his  voice  above  its  natural  tone,  so  that  his  words 
might  reach  the  ear  of  Evangeline,  he  replied  to  the  interrogatory 
of  the  geutlemeu  : 

"The  news  is  most  gratifying,  indeed.  A  courier  just  in  from 
Perryville  brings  the  reliable  intelligence  that  we  whipped  the  reb- 
els all  to  pieces  on  yesterday,  and  they  are  now  flying  routed  and 
panic-stricken  in  the  direction  of  Lancaster,  making  their  way  out 
of  the  State  as  fast  as  they  can.  Buell  is  sure  to  overtake  them 
before  they  can  reach  Stanford,  and  the  great  probability  is  that 
that  the  whole  army  will  be  captured." 

"Is  it  possible?"  exclaimed  the  first  speaker.  "  I  fear  this  is 
too  good  to  be  believed.     Is  the  man  to  be  relied  on  ?" 

"  Most  assuredly.  This  is  the  news  that  is  to  be  sent  to  Louis- 
ville.   It  is  official." 

"  And  did  we  suffer  much  loss?" 

"Pretty  heavy,  but  by  no  means  sufficient  to  delay  an  immedi- 
ate pursuit.  General  Buell  will  move  on  this  morning  after  the 
scattered  and  dying  troops  of  Bragg.  The  Confederate  campaign 
in  Kentucky  is  at  an  end,  sir.  The  army  is  literally  destroyed, 
not  one  in  twenty  will  ever  get  back  to  tell  the  story  of  their  dis- 
astrous defeat." 

Mary  and  Evangeline  sat  like  statues  pale  and  immovable. 
Riveted  to  their  seats  by  the  very  horror  of  the  intelligence,  they 
felt  as  if  they  should  faint  under  its  crushing  weight.  They  looked 
at  each  other  witli  an  expression  of  fearful  wonder,  but  neither 
spoke.  They  essayed  to  eat  that  their  agitation  might  not  lie  ob- 
served. Bui  they  could  not  swallow  their  food,  but  trembling, 
hopeless,  helpless.  I  bey  sat  listening  to  the  conversation,  every 
word  of  which  fell  like  a  death  sentence  on  their  ears. 

"  Oh,  we  will  make  short  work  of  these  invaders  of  our  soil," 
said  Lasley,  his  very  tone  speaking  the  gratification  of  his  heart. 
"  We'll  teach  them  a  lesson  they  will  not  soon  forget.  Their  au- 
dacity is  unparalleled.  Who  asked  them  to  come  into  our  Slate 
to  steal,  and  thieve,  and  to  destroy  !  What  right  had  they  to  use 
Union  men  as  they  have  done  and  to  possess  themselves  of  our 
property  as  they  have  been  constantly  doing.  By  the  way,  we 
have  got  one  of  those  patriots,  one  of  Morgan's  men,  in  prison  here 
— a  fellow  that  escaped  from  Louisville  on  his  way  to  Camp  Chase, 
and  who  had  aucceeded  in  getting  thus  far  on  his  route  to  the  Con- 
federate army." 

At  this  announcement  the  knife  dropped  from  Evangeline's  hand, 
her  heart  stood  still,  all  the  color  forsook  her  face,  her  brain  reeled, 
and  she  felt  as  if  she  would  fall  from  her  seat. 

"  Yes,  I  heard  something  of  it  when  I  reached  town  on  yester 
20 


305  KAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

day.  Who  is  the  young  fellow  1  and  how  did  it  happen  he  was 
recognized  1" 

Evangeline  listened  with  her  soul  to  catch  Lasley's  answer. 

"  His  name  is  Harry  Roberts,"  replied  the  heartless  wretch, 
slowly  and  emphatically.  "  He  was  sauntering  along  the  street 
here  in  all  security  when  I  recognized  him,  and  knowing  that  he 
was  a  fugitive  from  justice,  I  had  him  arrested  and  placed  in  con- 
finement until  he  can  be  sent  back  to  Louisville." 

Evangeline  could  hear  ns  more.  She  arose,  left  the  room,  and 
finding,  she  knew  not  how,  the  chamber  where  they  had  slept  the 
night  before,  she  staggered  to  the  bed,  on  which  she  threw  herself, 
and  lay  rigid,  immovable,  as  one  bereft  of  life.  Mary  followed  her 
quickly.  Finding  her  in  this  frightful  condition,  notwithstanding 
her  own  heart  was  breaking,  she  set  about  restoring  her  to  con- 
sciousness. Bathing  her  face  in  cold  water,  and  applying  to  her 
nose  a  small  bottle  of  sal.  volatile  which  she  chanced  to  have  in 
.  her  pocket,  and  chafing  her  hands  and  forehead,  she  succeeded  at 
last  in  partially  arousing  her.  The  young  girl  opened  her  eyes, 
looked  wildly  about  her,  and  then,  with  a  shudder,  closed  them 
again  and  moaned.  Mary  was  alarmed  at  her  appearance  fJer 
first  impulse  was  to  call  for  aid,  but  feeling  that  their  position  was 
one  that  demanded  the  greatest  caution,  she  determined  to  keep 
the  whole  matter  as  secret  as  possible.  Despatching  William  11. 
for  a  servant  to  bring  fresh  water,  she  locked  the  clcor,  lowered  the 
bands,  and  undoing  Evangeline's  traveling  dress  and  removing 
every  thing  that  might  impede  circulation,  she  continued  to  bathe 
her  temples  and  rub  her  hands,  at  intervals  applying  the  ammonia. 
After  while  Evangeline  opened  her  eyes  a  second  time  and  gazed 
up  imploringly  into  the  face  of  her  young  friend  who  was  bend- 
ing over  her  with  all  the  tenderness  of  a  sister. 

"  He  is  in  prison,  Mary,"  she  said  slowly  and  mournfully.  "  My 
life  is  lost ;  oh  !  that  T  could  die." 

"  Do  not  talk  so,  Evangeline,  there  is  yet  hope,  replied  Mary, 
feeling  that  she  must  retain  all  calmness  and  courage.  "  Better 
there  than  dead.  We  may  yet  manage  to  relieve  him.  Charley, 
you  know  has  been  a  prisoner  three  times.  There  is  hope  for  Har- 
ry, certainly." 

Evangeline  shook  her  head  despairingly.  "No,  no!"  she  said 
as  she  closed  her  eyes,  while  the  great  liquid  tears  rolled  down  her 
cheeks. 

"Oh,  yes!  there  is  hope,  great  hope,  Evangeline.  I  will  send 
for  Lasley  and  get  him  to  interfere.  He  can  be  influenced  to  exert 
himself  in  Harry's  behalf.  Don't  give  up;  it  will  be  all  right. 
These  are  times  when  we  must  not  suffer  ourselves  to  be  overcome 
by  difficulties,  however  insuperable  they  may  seem." 

"  But  what  shall  I  do,  Mary  ?"  asked  Evangeline,  aroused  by 
her  friend's  words  and  look  of  calm  determination. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  307 

"  Send  for  Lasley  and  appeal  to  him — surely  he  cannot  be  heart- 
less ;  he  will  interfere  for  Harry." 

"  Oh,  you  do  not  know  Lasley,  Mary;  he  is  prompted  by  no  mo- 
tive but  self  interest  and*gratification.  I  can  appeal  to  him — but 
oh  !  it  will  be  so  humiliating!  yet  for  Harry's  sake  I  could  pros- 
trate myself  before  him  and  plead  as  a  slave  to  his  master  ;  but  it 
will  be  in  vain — he  will  not  hear  me — his  heart  is  hard,  selfish, 
brutal."  ' 

"  But,  Evangeline  it  is  the  only  hope  I  see  for  Harry's  release 
It  may  not  succeed,  but  certainly  the  object  is  worth  the  trial  ;  and 
what  is  to  be  done  must  In-  done  quickly.  You  heard  what  he 
said  about  the  retreat  of  the  Confederates  from  the  .State  ;  it 
may  already  be  too  late  for  us  to  overtake  them." 

"Send  for  Lasley,  Mary;  and  yet,  how  can  I  meet  bin) — how 
ask  a  favor  at  his  hands  1"  she  said,  a  look  of  disdain  overspread- 
ing her  face  ;  "but  is  is  for  Harry — for  him  I  will  humble  myself 
even  to  the  dust.  Were  it  for  myself  I  would  die — die  before  I 
would  encounter  this  heartless,  detestable  man.  Perhaps,  Mary, 
he  will  not  see  me,"  she  said,  as  she  stood  before  the  mirror, 
smoothing  her  dark  hair  back  from  her  aching  forehead. 

"  You  can  but -try.  Willie  has  gone  to  ask  him  to  the  parlor 
to  meet  you  there." 

"  You  must  go  with  me,  Mary,  I  cannot  see  him  alone." 

"Yes,  Evangie,  I  will  go  with  you  and  give  you  all  the  assist- 
ance I  can." 

In  the  course  of  fifteen  minutes,  whioh  appeared  hours  to"  the 
waiting  girls,  William  K.  returned  and  informed  them  that  Lasley 
was  in  the  parlor  awaiting  them. 

Nerving  herself  for  the  task  before  her,  Evangeline  leaning  on 
Mary's  arm,  descended  to  the  room  and  confronted  young  Lasley. 
As  she  met  him,  she  felt  all  the  spirit  of  defiance  of  which  her  na- 
ture was  capable  swell  in  her  bosom.  Her  face  assumed  a  look  of 
hauteur — her  eyes  fixed  themselves  resolutely  on  his — her  proud 
lips  compressed,  while  her  nostrils  expanded — that  uumistakeable 
evidence  of  determination  and  conscious  superiority. 

He  received  her  with  the  air  of  one  who  aware  of  his  own  per- 
sonal weakness,  yet  feels  strong  in  the  power  of  circumstances. 
Mary  left  them  alone  and  walked  out  on  the  gallery. 

"I  come,"  she  said  to  him  as  she  seated  herself,  "to  ask  you  if 
it  is  in  your  power  to  have  Harry  Roberts  released  from  prison." 

"  Indeed?"  he  responded  with  bitter  scorn.  "Do  you  come  to 
me,  Miss  Lenoir,  to  ask  a  favor?  to  me,  whom  you  have  insulted, 
taunted,  derided  ?  I  would  scarcely  think  you  would  ask  of  me, 
whom  you  have  thus  treated,  to  render  you  assistance — to  aid  my 
rivval,my  foe." 

"  Harry  has  never  injured  you  Edward  Lasley.  Nor  would  he 
ask  this  at  your  hands — he  would  perish  first — die  in  prison  a 
thousand  times  rather.     It  is  I — I  come  to  beseech  you  for  my 


308  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

sake,  for  the  sake  of  humanity, of  mercy  to  act  if  you  have  any 
influence,  any  power." 

"When  I  besought  you,  Miss  Lenoir,  to  have  compassion  on 
me,  to  relieve  my  feelings,  did  you  do  it?  How  did  you  act  when 
I  supplicated?  Did  1  not  tell  you  then  we  would  meet  again  ? 
and  now  my  words  are  fulfilled.  The  scene  is  changed  ;  it  is  you 
who  now  sues.  Should  I  heed  your  plea  1  RexAember  your  own 
scorn,  your  indifference,  your  neglect !  Though  late,  revenge  has 
come  at.  last ;  we  have  met  again.  You  shall  never  marry  Harry 
Roberts.     My  words  are  now  made  good." 

"  You  knew,  Edward  Lasley,  why  I  did  not  marry  you.  I  told 
you  I  did  not  love  you,  that  my  heart,  was  another's.  Would  you 
have  wedded  me  with  this  fact  starring  you  in  the  face  ?  Could 
you  have  proved  so  false  to  yourself,  to  every  pure  and  noble  sen- 
timent, as  to  wish  me  to  marry  you  when  my  affections  clung  to 
another  ?" 

"  But  I  loved  you,  Evangeline.  You  promised  to  be  mine  ;  you 
broke  that  vow,  and  refused  to  see  me." 

"If  1  have  wronged  you,  Edward  Lasley,  I  ask  your  forgive- 
ness. 1  acted  hastily  in  promising  to  marry  you  ;  I  should  have 
considered  the  subject.  Had  I  done  this,  I  would  not  have  fallen 
into  this  fatal  error.  But  was  it  not  best,  right,  just,  when  1  found 
that  I  had  acted  unwisely — that  I  did  not,  could  not  love  you — tu 
tell  you  so,  and  thus  save  us  both  a  life,  of  misery!  Surely,  Ed- 
ward Lasley,  you  cannot  upbraid  me  for  this.  Why,  oh  !  why  do 
you  torture  me?  Will  you  endeavor  to  have  Harry  released,  or 
shall  I  plead  in  vain  ?" 

"There  is  one  condition,  Evangeline,  and  only  one,  on  which  I 
will  graut  your  request." 

"  And  what  is  this  ?"  the  excited  girl  exclaimed  eagerly.  "Say, 
say  !  I  promise  anything.  Just  release  Harry,  let  him  once  again 
be  free,  and  you  may  demand  of  me  whatever  you  choose.  I  will 
grant  any  request.     Name  it,  name  it!" 

"  Be  careful  how  you  promise,"  he  replied,  while  his  lip  curled 
with  irony,  "you  may  have  again  to  repent  a  rash  vow." 

"Harry,  Harry  !  if  he  is  free,  I  ask  no  more!  Anything,  even 
my  life  to  save  him  !" 

"  The  condition  is  " — and  the  young  man  fixed  his  eye  intently 
on  the  girl  before  him  as  he  slowly  uttered  his  horrid  stipulation. 
She  trembled  under  his  look  and  the  ominous  tone  of  his  voice. 
"The  condition  is — and  it  is  the  only  one — that  you  will  marry 
me  at  the  time  mentioned  in  your- last  note." 

"  Oh  !  heaven  pity  me  !"  ejaculated  Evangeline,  starting  franti- 
cally from  her  seat.  "Marry  you,  Edward  Lasley?  marry  you  ? 
oh,  how  ean  you  ask  me  to  do  this  ?  Anything,  anything  but  this. 
This  is  not  the  only  condition  ;  it  cannot  be — you  would  not  be 
so  cruel — you  could  not  make  yourself  unhappy  for  life — curse 
yourself  and  me.     Oh,  no  !  you  do  not  mean  this ;  ynu  are  jesting, 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  309 

sporting  with  my  feelings.  I  beseech  you,  spare  me;  oh,  spare 
me !" 

Her  manner  was  wildly  excited,  her  face  livid  and  rigid,  her 
lip  quivered,  her  voice  was  harsh  and  broken,  she  trembled  in 
every  nerve  as  she  gazed  upon  him.  He  met  her  look,  coldly, 
calmly,  unfeelingly.  Around  his  mouth  there  lurked  a  smile  of 
fiendish  enjoyment — in  his  eye  there  rested  a  look  of  dogged  deter- 
mination. He  spok'e  not;  but  sat,  his  eyes  riveted  on  the  suffer- 
ing girl,  as  if  gloating  over  her  anguish.  Evangeline  read  his 
thoughts,  and  her  heart  heat  more   wildly. 

"You  do  not  ask  me  to  marry  you,  Edward  La-ley.'"  she  re- 
sumed, after  some  moments'  pause,  during  Which  he  did  not  re- 
move his  steadfast  gaze.  "  Oh  !  you  do  not  require  this  of  me  as 
the  return  for  releasing  Harry  from  prison  !  No,  no  !  you  will  not 
he  so  cruel !  ' 

"Nothing  more  1  ask — nothing  less  will  satisfy  my  demand.  I 
love  you,  Evangeline,  and  I  have  determined  to  make  you  my  wife. 
Say  you  will  marry  me.  and  Harry  Roberta  shall  he  free  in  an 
hour — refuse,  and  the  setting  sun  shall  find  him  in  Louisville  on 
his  way  to  a  Northern  prison — and  I  suppose  to  death." 

"  I  do  not  love  you — I  tell  you  once  again  I  cannot  love  you, 
Edward  Lasley.  How,  then,  could  I  ever  consent  to  be  your 
wife  ?" 

"  Marry  me,  and  you  will  afterwards  learn  to  love  me.  Marry 
me,  I  ask  no  more.     I  will  risk  an  the  consequences." 

She  bowed  her  head  as  if  in  (l  p  thought.  But  how  could  her 
poor,  distracted  brain  think,  reeling  as  it  was  with  the  horrors  of 
the  destiny  that  awaited  her — let  her  choose  as  she  might.  Silent 
and  bewildered  she  sat  there,  stupefied  with  grief. 

"You  must  answer  me  now,  Evangeline.  There  is  no  time  to 
lose.  In  half  an  hour  the  stage  will  leave  for  Louisville,  and  unless 
you  consent  to  my  proposal,  Roberts  shall  he  sent  down." 

"Oh!  wait — wait — let  me  have  time  to  think.  I  cannot  de- 
cide— the  question  is  too  momentous." 

"No  time  for  wasting;  you  must  conclude  speedily.  A  few 
minutes  must  decide  the  question  forever.     It  rests  with  you." 

"  Oh  Harry,  Harry!"  exclaimed  Evangeline,  as  she  buried  her 
face  in  her  hands.  "  Must  I  make  this  great  sacrifice  ? — must  I 
marry  him  and  leave  you  forever  1  Oh !  how  can  I  do  this ! 
And. yet,  if  I  refuse,  your  life  will  pay  the  forfeit.  -  We  shall  never 
meet  again  !  Yes,  yes,"  she  said  to  herself,  "if  he  can  but  be 
free,  1  am  happy.  To  spare  him,  I  will  die ;  yes,  die.  I  will 
give  myself  for  him." 

"Do  I  understand  that  you  consent  to  be  my  wife,  Evangeline?" 
said  Lasley,  as  these  low  spoken  words  fell  on  her  ear. 

She  looked  suddenly  up  at  him. 

"  You  will  have  Harry  released  if  I  promise  you  this ;  you 
will  not  deceive  me  1" 


310  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

"  I  will  rot  deceive  you,  Evangeline.  Roberts  shall  be  a  free 
man  and  placed  in  a  position  of  safety  before  the  sun  goes  down." 

"  Then  I  consent,"  she  said,  slowly,  in  a  low,  husky  voice,  as  if 
her  soul  spoke  out  its  eternal  doom  in  these  few  words. 

"  And  you  will  marry  me  at  the  appointed  time  V 

She  bowed  assent. 

"  Remember,  Evangeline,  what  you  promise.  Do  not  deceive 
yourself— think  not  to,  deceive  me." 

Sbe  gazed  at  him,  but  replied  not. 

"  And  when  shall  Harry  be  free  ?"  she  asked,  as  if  she  had 
nought  else  on  earth  to  desire  but  his  release  and  safety. 

"  Very  soon.     I  will  go  now  and  makre  the  arrangements."' 

"  And  may  I  not  see  him  once — just  once — to  bid  him  farewell; 
to  tell  him  all.  Oh  !  deny  me  not  this  request.  « It  is  but  a  poor 
one — the  last  one." 

"  Yes ;  you  may  go  with  me  to  the  prison,  Evangeline,  but  you 
must  remain  here  until  1  can  see  about  it.  I  will  call  in  a  few 
minutes  and  let  you  know." 

"  And  do  you  mean,  Evangeline,  to  marry  him  V  asked  her 
friend,  who  entered  the  room  as  Lasley  left,  and  heard  from  the 
lips  of  the  desponding  girl  the  story  of  her  fearful  promise. 

"  Oh,  ask  me   not,  Mary.     I  am  wild,  wild!"  and  Evangeline 
•  clasped  her  friend  in  the  agony  of  despair.     "Great  God!"  she 
exclaimed,  "  what  have  I  .done — what  shall   I  do  !     Ob,  Harry, 
Harry  !  must  1  be  torn  from  you  forever!" 

Young  Lasley  returned  to  an,  unce  that  he  was  ready  to  go  to 
the  prison  to  see  about  the  release  of  Harry. 

"Oh,  go  with  me,  Mary,"  besought  Evangeline,  as  they  ascended 
the  stairway  to  their  room.  "  Go  with  me,  Mary  ;  it.  may  be  the 
last  favor  I  shall  ever  ask  of  you.  Will  you  go  through  the  lines, 
Mary  ?  Will  you  risk  yourself  in  the  present  wild  and  confused 
state  of  things?  Oh,  do  not  leave  me!  Stay,  stay,  there  may 
yet  come  relief." 

"  1  must  go,  Evangeline.  You  know  all  I  hold  most  dear  on 
earth  is  there.  My  father,  my  brother,  and — Charley — if  he  still 
lives.  I  grieve  to  leave  you,  Evangeline,  but  you  know  my  heart 
is  with  the  South.  I  could  no  longer  live  amid  the  scenes  of  my 
once  happy,  but  now  desolate  home.  What  awaits  me  in  my  at- 
tempt to  get  out,  or  what  is  before  me  in  the  future,  I  know  not. 
It  is  all  darkly  wild,  fearfully  strange;  but  I  will  brave  it  all, 
believing  it  to  be  right," 

Mary  threw  on  her  hat  and  tied  it,  and  was  in  the  act  of  put- 
ting on  her  gloves  to  join  Evangeline,  who  stood  awaiting  her, 
when  Willie  R.  rushed  up  the  steps  and  into  the  room,  exclaiming 
in  broken  accents : 

"  Morgan ! — Morgan  ! — Morgan  is  coming,  Miss  Mary  !  Will 
be  in  this  town  directly  with  bis  men!" 

The  two  girls  looked  at  the  agitated  boy  in  silent  astonishment. 
Had  he  lost  his  senses  ? 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  311 

"  It's  true !  it's  true,  Miss  Mary  !  I  heard  a  man  say  so,  who 
just,  now  dashed  into  town  ;  he  says  be  saw  them  all." 

"He  is  deceiving  you,  Willie,"  said  Evangeline.  Somebody 
wants  to  create  an  excitement." 

Just  then  a  rush  was  heard  below  stairs.  The  two  girls  ran 
down  to  the  parlor  to  ascertain  its  cause.  They  there  encoun- 
tered some  ladies  and  several  gentlemen,  all  in  the  greatest  per- 
turbation. 

"Morgan!  Morgan!"  was  en  every  lip. 

"  Is  Colonel  Morgan  coming  here?"  asked  Mary,  of  the  gentle- 
man next  her. 

"  Yes,  Miss ;  is  within  a  few  miles  of  the  place.  Will  be  here 
directly." 

"  May  there  not  be  some  mistake  about  it  ?" 

"  None  in  the  work! — it  is  so.  I  have  seen  two  men  whom  I 
know  to  be  truthful.  They  saw  Morgan  at  the  bead  of  his  forces 
but  a  few  minutes  ago,  coming  right  in  the  direction  of  the  town. 
The  whole  place  is  in  confusion.  Men  are  running  to  and  fro,  and 
the  soldiers  are  scared  to  death." 

And  it  was  really  so  !  Morgan,  after  having  flanked  the  Fed- 
eral forces  in  front  of  Crab  Orchard,  had  swept  around  the  rear  of 
Buell's  entire  army — returned  to  Lexington,  took  possession  of  the 
place,  capturing  prisoners,  commissary  stores,  &c,  &c.,  and  then 
pursuing  in  the  vicinity  of  Frankfort  and  Lawrenceburg,  filling 
the  whole  country  with  the  wildest  excitement,  was  now  rapidly 
bearing  down  on  Bardstown. 

"  AN  ill  they  offer  any  resistance  here,  sir?" 

"  Oh,  I  suppose  not.  It  would  he  useless  to  do  so.  There  is 
comparatively  but  a  small  force  here,  and  they  have  had  so  little 
warning,  that  they  could  not  prepare  to  right.  Oh,  no,  they  will 
all  be  made  prisoners." 

Evangeline  looked  around.  Lasley  was  gone.  Her  heart 
throbbed  violently  as  she  thought  that  perhaps  he  had  gone  to  see 
that  Roberts  vras  conveyed  to  some  point  beyond  the  reach  of  Mor- 
gan. By  I  his  time  the  hitherto  quiet  streets  of  the  little  town 
were  tilled  with  frantic  people  hurrying  to  and  fro.  "Morgan! 
Morgan!"  was  on  every  tongue.  Many  were  the  bright  faces  in 
these  busy  throngs,  as  it  became  certain  that  the  rumor  was  true. 
There  were  many  friends  to  the  Southern  cause  in  Bardstown,  ever 
ready  to  greet  the  champions  of  liberty  and  right. 

A  few  minutes  more  of  suspense  and  wild  conjecture,  and  the 
'Confederates,  headed  by  their  gallant  leader,  dashed  into  the  town 
amid  the  cheers  and  'shouts,  and  loud  huzzas  of  the  expectant 
crowd. 

As  the  deafening  acclaim  rang  out  on  the  air,  Mary  and  Evau- 
geline  rushed  with  others  to  the  gallery  of  the  hotel.  What  a  mo- 
ment of  rapture  to  these  two  anxious  hearts  ! 

"Free!  free!  Harry  will  now  be  free!"  shouted  Evangeline, 


312  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

forgetful  of  the  presence  of  those  around  her.  "Free!  free!  and 
I  released  from  that  fearful  engagement!  Oh,  God!  I  thank 
thee  !"  and  she  clasped  her  hands  in  the  delirium  of  joy. 

"  Be  still,  Evangie.  Watch  and  see  if  you  can  find  John,  my 
brother.     Oh, if  he  is  only  with  them!" 

She  had  but  finished  the  words,  when  her  brother  came  pran- 
cing by.  He  chanced  to  be  looking  in  the  direction  of  the  hotel. 
As  Mary  caught  a  glimpse  of  his  form,  she  shouted, 

"John,  John!  my#  brother,  my  brother  !" 

The  soldier  recognized  his  sister.  A  moment  more,  and  she  was 
clasped  in  his  arms. 

In  a  few  words  Mary  made  known  to  him  the  story  of  Harry 
Roberts'  imprisonment.  Without  delay  he  hastened  to  inform 
Colonel  Morgan,  who  immediately  sent  a  squad  of  men  to  open 
the  prison  doors  and  set  the  prisoner  free. 

"  My  God,  Lawrence,  is  this  you  1"  exclaimed  Harry,  as  open-  , 
iag  the  door  of  his  narrow  room  he  met  face  to  face  the  friend  of  his 
childhood  his  deliverer,     "  How  came  you  here]  and  how  did  you 
know  I  was  in  this  wretched  place  V 

While  he  spoke,  he  continued  to  shake  the  hand  of  his  friend 
warmly,  his  face  speaking  out  the  full  gratitude  of  his  soul. 

"  We  came  to  deliver  you  from  the  clutches  of  the  Yanks,  and 
we  have  accomplished  our  purpose  you  see,"  answered  Lawrence. 

"Thanks,  thanks,  a  thousand  thanks  for  your  opportune  pr es- 
sence. I  was  daily  looking  to  be  sent  to  Camp  Chase" or  the  gal- 
lows. You  know  this  is  my  second  arrest,  and  I  wasn't  sure  they 
wouldn't  hang  me.    But,  tell  me,  are  all  the  boys  here!" 

"  Come  out  and  see.  Are  you  so  attached  to  your  headquarters 
as  to  be  unwilling  to  leave  them  1  Really  it  looks  like  it.  You 
are  a  freeman.    Come,  enjoy  your  liberty." 

Just  outside  the  door  stood  Brent.  Irving,  Curd,  and  others  of 
Harry's  friends  awaiting  his  appearance.  When  they  saw  him, 
they  made  the  air  ring  with  their  shouts  of  congratulation.  Each 
in  turn  grasped  his  hand,  and  shook  it  warmly,  as  they  wecolmed 
him  back  to  the  privileges  of  a  freeman  and  a  soldier.  It  was  a 
happy  moment  for  Harry,  one  he  had  never  expected  to  realize. 
There  was  but  one  apprehension  to  mar  his  joy,  that  was  fear  for 
Evangeline.  He  longed  to  ask  if  anything  had  been  heard  from 
her.  but  he  deemed  it  so  impossible,  that  he  dared  not  venture  the 
question. 

The  boys  conducted  him  to  the  hotel.  Following  Lawrence,  he 
entered  the  parlor. 

"Harry  !"  Evangeline  could  say  no  more,  as  she  sprang  from 
seat  towards  him. 

He  clasped  her  in  his  arms.  Not  a  word  escaped  his  lips.  The 
tears  rushed  to  his  eyes  and  fell  from  his  manly  cheeks. 

"Evangeline!  Evangeline!  Oh,  God!  and  you  are  here  safe  !'| 
he  said,  as  soon  as  he  could  find  utterance.    "How  came  you  here. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  313 

Evangeline!  Do  tell  mel  As  soon  would  I  have  expected  to 
have  met  an  angel  visitant  from  heaven  as  you.  Did  you  know  I 
was  hare?  No,  no,  you  could  not.  1  thought  you  were  at  Lex- 
ington, or  perhaps  had  nut  yet  left.  Louisville. " 

The  young  girl  related  to  her  lover  the  outline  of  her  adven- 
tures. When  she  mentioned  Lesley's  name,  Harry  sprang  to  his 
feet,  and  asked  where  he  could  be  found.  She  dared  not  tell  him 
of  the  insult  ! — the  infamous  promise  extracted  from  her.  5 
knew  that  Lasley's  life  would  he  the  propitiation  lor  his  deep, 
damning  wrong. 

"  Oh,  do  not  trouble  yourself  about  him,"  interposed  Lawrence, 
"  Wicklifle  will  attend  to  his  case  1  expect  lie  is  now  occupying 
your  room  at  your  late  headquarters.'1 

"There  he  goes  now,  I  suppose,"  said  Brent,  looking  down 
from  the  window.  "  Wicklifle  has  BOOM  young,  black-haired  up- 
start in  charge." 

There  was  a  general  rush  to  the  balcony.  Lasley  looked  up  at 
the  sudden  movement.  His  eye  rested  on  Evangeline  beside  Har- 
ry Roberta.  The  vanquisher  was  vanquished.  His  eyes  fell  to 
the  ground,  and  he  marched  on  powerless  as  a  child,  chagrined, 
disappointed.  A  short  walk  brought  him  to  the  jail.  Conducting 
him  in,  the  boys  kft  him  to  his  own  reflections! 

Mary  immediately  informed  John  other  intention  to  accompa- 
ny him  through  to  Tennessee. 

"How  can  this  be  dyne,  Man  I     It  in  impossible." 

"Not  impossible,  John.  You  and  Harry  must  get  a  carriage, 
and  send  us  under  special  escort.  You  tell  me  ladies  have  gone 
out  from  Lexington.  There  is  Mrs.  John  0.  Breckinridge  and 
others  now  under  the  protection  of  General  Bragg's  army  finding 
their  way  South.  You  know  father  expected  me  through.  How 
dreadful  he  must  have  felt  when  he  found  I  did  not  come,  lie 
thinks  I  am  in  Louisville,  of  course,  separated  from  him — perhaps 
forever.  Oh.  1  must  go  through,  let  it  cost  what  it  may.  I  can 
take  no  denial." 

A  plan  was  soon  devised  that  promised  entire  safety.  A  vehi- 
cle was  procured,  and  all  arrangements  made  for  the  party  to  set 
out  after  dinner.  John  Lawrence  was  transformed  into  a  plain, 
peaceable  citizen,  by  donning  the  civilian's  suit  of  black  cloth  that 
Evangeline  bad  purchased  to  insure  Harry's  safety,  and  which  she 
had  taken  the  precaution  to  place  in  her  carpet  sack,  while  Harry 
readily  metamorphosed  himself  into  a  soldier,  by  enrobing  in  John's 
military  garb  and  taking  possession  of  his  horse  and  all  accou- 
trements. 

It  was  decided  that  they  should  travel  as  rapidly  as  possible, 
keeping  under  the  protection  of  the  cavalry  force  until  beyond 
danger  from  the  few  Federals  that  where  scattered  around  in  the 
country  intervening  between  Bards  town  and  Blizabethtown. 

Never  did  a  happier  party  set  out  on  a  perilous  journey.     Ap- 


314  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

prehension  had  given  place  to  a  feeling  of  security,  agitation  had 
changed  to  tranquility,  sorrow  to  joy. 

On  tbey  traveled  as  rapidly  as  it  was  practicable,  meeting  with 
no  danger,  encountering  no  cause  of  alarm — a  merry,  cheery  com- 
pany, where  past  trials  were  all  forgotten  in  the  bliss  of  the  pres- 
ent and  the  promise  of  the  future. 

When  between  New  Haven  and  Elizabethtown,  the  Confeder- 
ates encountered  a  wagon  train  of  supplies  guarded  by  a  small  Fed- 
eral force.  After  a  slight  resistance  on  the  part  of  the  Yankees, 
the  whole  was  captured  and  destroyed.  This  was  the  first  ac- 
quaintance with  the  "  art  of  war"  that  Evangeline  and  Mary  had 
had,  and  brave  as  they  were,  their  hearts  quailed  as  they  heard 
the  rapid  clash,  the  quick,-  successive  firing  of  the  musketry.  After 
this  encounter,  Colonel  Morgan  swept  over  the  country  between 
Eliabethtown  and  Mumfordsville  towards  the  Ohio  river,  and  form- 
ed a  junction  with  Colonel  Johnson  in  the  neighborhood  of  Hen- 
derson. His  object  was  to  secure  recruits,  and  give  opportunity 
to  the  guerrillas  of  these  counties  to  get  through  into  Tennessee, 
and  in  this  he  succeeded  finely,  accomplishing  hiis  purpose,  beside 
destroying  Federal  stores  at  many  points,  and  interrupting  commu- 
nication with  Nashville. 


CHAPTER  LVI. 


THE     CONSUMMATION. 


The  two  girls  under  the  care  of  young  Lawrence  pursued  their 
journey  into  Tennessee  by  the  way  of  Glasgow  and  Hartsville,  and 
on  the  evening  of  the  sixth  day  arrived  at  Mr.  Jamieson's,  in  the 
vicinity  of  McMinnville.  Through  the  kind  assistance  and  direc- 
tion of  friends,  they  had  avoided  every  semblance  of  danger.  The 
trip  had  been  one  of  fatigue  and  anxiety,  but  all  this  was  forgotten 
by  the  happy  party,  as  they  sat  around  the  cheerful  fire  of  the 
hospitable  farmer  and  recounted  their  adventures. 

Mr.  Jamieson  informed  them  that  Charley  had  recovered,  and 
had  passed  through  his  neighborhood  a  few  days  before,  taking 
dinner  with  him.  He  was  on  his  way  to  Kentucky  to  join  his 
command. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  315 

Mary's  eager  heart  heard  the  intelligence  of  his  recovery  with 
a  thankful  joy  which  no  words  could  portray,  hut  when  she  was 
informed  of  his  mission  into  Kentucky,  fear  and  dependency  seized 
her  soul.  She  -felt  that  fate  was  against  her.  She  had  risked  all 
to  come  to  Charley,  and  now  he  was  gone,  perhaps  to  become  a 
prisoner  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy. 

Evangeline  endeavored  to  console  her,  by  telling  her  that  Char- 
ley would  very  soon  obtain  information  of  tho  Confederate  retreat 
from  Kentucky,  and  return  to  MoMinnville.     But  her  fears  were* 
aroused.     She  could  see  nothing  but  disappointment  hovering  over 
her  future  pathway. 

Imagine  then  her  joy  when  on  the  day  following  Charley  rode 
up  to  Mr.  Jamieson's. 

As  Evaugeline  had  said,  he  had  learned  that  Colonel  Morgan 
was  coming  out  of  the  State  and  knowing  that  he  would  likely  es- 
tablish his  headquarters  at  MoMinnville,  he  had  returned  to  Mr. 
Jamieson's  to  await  him. 

The  meeting  was  as  unexpected  to  Charley  as  Mary,  and  their 
mutual  joy  at  their  thus  again  beholding  each  other  after  all  the 
trials,  suspense  and  anxiety  that  had  tortured  their  hearts  during 
their  separation,  was  akin  to  the.  bliss  of  Kden, — was  as  the  light 
from  the  celestial  spheres  shining  into  their  souls,  chasing  Ihere- 
from.  every  vestige  of  darkness  and  sadness. 

Two  days  more,  and  Colonel  Morgan,  with  hia  force  now  largely 
increased  from  different  parts  of  Kentucky,  arrived  in  the  vicin- 
ity of  McMinnville,  and  encamped  in  the  neighborhood  of  Mr.  Ja- 
mieson.  ,  Harry  Roberts  was  safe,  and  never  were  there  happier 
hearts  than  the  four  that,  on  the  evening  of  the  arrival  of  Colonel 
Morgan's  forces,  assembled  around  the  cheerful  board  of  the  kind 
host.  I 

The  evening  passed  in  recitals  of  adventures  and  escapes.  Each 
had  a  thrilling  story  to  relate — a  history  in  itself  worthy  of  record. 
The  rapture  of  the  present  was  heightened  by  the  remembrance 
of  the  trials  of  the  past. 

There  are  times  in  the  life  of  every  individual  when  the  bliss  of 
years  concentrates  in  a  few  fleeting  moments.  No  words  can  pic- 
ture the  joy  of  such  seasons.  They  are  brief,  but  in  their  rapid 
flight  they  write  remembrances  in  on  the  soul  as  with  the  point  of 
the  diamond — remembrances  which  all  the  vexation,  all  the  grief 
of  after  life  cannot  wipe  out  from  the  tablet  whereon  they  are  en- 
graved. There  they  remain  unmarred,  ineffaceable — a  well-spring 
of  rapture  to  the  heart  as  long  as  it  continues  to  throb.  And  in 
old  age  we  look  back  from  the  gathering  shades  of  years  upon  these 
green  and  sunny  memories,  and  linger  around  their  blissful  haunts 
until  the  heart  is  young  again,  and  our  youth  is  renewed  more  po- 
tently than  if  we  had  drank  of  the  famed  Elixir  of  Life  of  the 
Oriental  magician. 

Such  a  moment  was  the  present  one  to  the  bounding  hearts  of 


316  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

the  lovers.  How  quickly  and  effectually,  as  if  under  the  magic 
wand  of  some  kind  genii,  did  all  past  sorrows,  ail  apprehensions, 
fade  out  in  the  sunlight  which  was  now  flooding  their  enraptured 
bosoms. 

We  need  not  dwell  in  detail  on  the  incidents  of  the  few  suc- 
ceeding days,  nor  give  our  readers  all  the  suggestions  of  the  vari- 
ous parties  as  to  the  proper  course  to  be  pursued  by  the  lovers. 
Suffice  it  to  say,  that  after  much  debate,  innumerable  propositions 
and  devising,  a  plan  was  finally  adopted  and  all  necessary  ar- 
rangements made  for  its  speedy  consummation. 

A  week  passed.  Within  the' hospitable  home  of  Mr.  Jamieson 
Colonel  Morgan  and  Staff,  together  with  all  the  particular  friends 
of  Charley  and  Harry,  and  a  few  of  the  especial  acquaintances  of 
the  family,  were  assembled  to  witness  the  marriage  of  Mary  Law- 
rence and  Evangeline  Lenoir  to  the  two  gallant  soldiers,  Charley 
R.  and  Harry  Roberts. 

It  was  a  cool  evening  in  October.  That,  month  of  miugled  sad- 
ness £ind  beauty  was  bidding  a  last,  an  eternal  farewell  to  earth. 
The  hand  of  autumn"  had  dyed  with  richest  hues  the  foliage  of  the 
forest,  and  spread,  with  lavish  beauty,  over  all  nature  a  garment 
of  gilded  splendor.  But  as  the  eye  rested  on  this  gorgeous  vesture, 
thd  heart  read  beneath  it  all  lessons  of  decay  and  death.  The 
trappings  of  the  tomb  were  visible  through  all  the  gay  parapher- 
nalia, and  amid  the  sweet  symphonies  could  be  heard  the  low  wail 
of  the  dirge  which  earth  chanted  for  her  bright  and  beautiful  chil- 
ren,  so  soon  to  sleep  forever  .in  the  deep,  dark  grave  which  had  ' 
relentlessly  swallowed  up,  age  after  age,  the  offspring  of  her  care 
and  nourishment. 

The  wind  sighed  mournfully  the  requiem  of  the  dead.  Through 
the  boughs  of  the  tall  old  trees  he  crept,  waking  them  to  notes  of 
saddest  music.  In  striking,  genial  contrast  to  the  darkness  and 
gloom  without,  was  the  happy,,  cheerful  scene  within.  There  glad 
faces  beamed  brightly,  and  heart  went  out  to  heart  in  kindly  sym- 
pathy. The  bright  wood  fire  which  blazed  so  determinedly  on  the 
hearth,  as  if  resolved  to  add-its  quota  to  the  general  enjoyment, 
threw  a  cheery  aspect  over  the  scene ;  and  the  glad  faces  of  Mr. 
'  and  Mrs.  Jamieson  plainly  spoke  the  pleasure  it  gave  them  to  be 
active  participants' on' an  occasion  so  happy.  It  was  an  unique 
affair,  so  every  one  felt.  But  around  it  clustered  so  much  of  novel- 
ty, that  the  strangely  peculiar  features  of  the  occasion  were  lost 
beneath  the  interest  that  this  very  novelty  excited. 

Dressed  in  deepest  mourning,  her  face  flushed  into  the  most 
transcendent  beauty,  Mary  Lawrence  entered  the  room,  leaningon 
the  arm  of  Charley.  He  bore  himself  proudly  erect,  conscious'  of 
the  responsibility  of  his  position  and  the  consequences  involved  in 
the  sacred  relation  he  was  about  to  assume. 

Immediately  following  them  were  Evangeline  and  Harry.  In 
consonance  with  the  circumstances,  she  wore  a  silk  of  dark  olive, 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  :*17 

finished  at  the  neck  and  wrists  by  a  handsome  collar  and  cuffs  of 
Valenciennes  lace.  Her  rich  dark  hair  was  combed  hack  from  the 
full  round  brow,  and  rolled  into  a  heavy  bandeau  behind  her  ears, 
covering  the  back  of  the  well  formed  head.  Some  simple  rose-buds 
were  her  only  ornament.  In  making  her  bridal  toilette  she  recalled 
the  conversation  that  had  occurred  on  the  occasion  of  her  friend 
Lu's  marriage,  and  the  handsome  breast  pin  and  bracelet  were  left 
in  the  case,  and  the  place  of  the  former  supplanted  by  some  fresh 
rose-buds. 

It  was  a  strikingly  impressive  scene.  There  stood  two  manly 
forms,  animated  by  as  brave  and  daring  hearts  as  ever  throbbed  in 
human  bosom — exiles  from  their  homes,  defenders  of  the  high  and 
holy  cause  of  liberty  and  right — the  representatives  of  many  a 
fiercely  contested  ami  successful  battle-field — the  escaped  victims 
of  fiendish  hate  and  cruelty  ;  while  beside  them,  leaning  confiding- 
ly on  them  for  j  rolectiun  and  support,  stood  two  beautiful  females, 
who,  raised  in  indulgence  and  luxury,  accustomed  to  all  that  can 
make  life  pleasant  and  throw  around  it  the  charms  of  elegance  and 
refinement,  had  forsaken  all  these  comforts  ami  joys,  had  encoun- 
tered hardship  and  danger,  that  they  might  solace  in  exile,  relieve 
in  distress,  and  comfort  in  affliction  those  brave  men,  to  whom  they 
had  given  the  true,  undying  affection  of -their  young  and  trusting 
hearts.  Beautiful  picture!  Life  does  not  often  present  its  coun- 
terpart. 

The  minister  approached  and  stood  before  them.  Alluding  in 
brief,  chaste  words  to  the  peculiar  position  of  those  who  were  about 
to  take  upon  themselves  the  sacred  vow,  he  proceeded  solemnly, 
yet  beautifully,  to  unite  them  in  the  holy  ties  of 'marriage.  And 
thus,  alter  trials  and  sorrows,  difficulties  and  disappointments,  that 
but  lew7  so  Noting  are  called  on  to  endure  and  overcome,  these  four 
tried  bul  heroic  hearts  found  at  last  the  full  consummation  of  their 
hopes,  the  fruition  of  earthly  joy. 

And  here,  amid  their  happiness,  we  leave  them;  bid  them  fare- 
well, while  gladness  beams  around  their  pathway,  and  tills  their 
young  and  hounding  hearts  with  bright  visions  of  that  future  which 
beckons  them  on  to  fresh  delights  ami  ever-awakening  joys.  We 
will  not  now  anticipate  and  portray  the  cares,  the  anxieties,  the 
fearful  looking-for  oi  news  from  the  dread  battle-field — the  sicken- 
ing, lacking  disappointment  at  tidings  delayed — the  nights  of 
watching,  the  days  of  waiting,  when  the  girl  wife,  in  the  bitterness 
of  separation  from  the  young  husband — gone  forth  to  fresh  deeds  of 
valor  and  blood — shall  wail,  ami  watch,  and  pray, yea  faint,  beneath 
the  weight  of  disappointed  Hiope  and  torturing  suspense.  Ah,  no! 
let  us  not  lift  the  veil  that  would  reveal  this  painful  panorama. 
The  contrast  would  be  too  striking,  too  sad. 

Victories  must  yet  be  won,  many  an  ensanguined  plain  must  yet 
attest  the  heroic  and  successful  struggles  of  Morgan  and  his  men, 
before  a  nation  can  shout  in  loud  and  grateful  strains,  "  Victory  ! 
victory!  independence  1  independence!" 


318  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

That  day  approaches.  The  clouds  begin  to  lift  themselves  from 
the  horizon  of  our  national  future.  Already  the  faint  glimmerings 
of  the  day-dawn  of  peace  are  beginning  to -throw  their  glowing 
light  through  the  dark  shades  that  have  so  long  enveloped  us.  Let 
us  hope  for  this  glorious  realization  of  our  desires,  pray  for  it,-  and, 
above  all,,  let  us  put'forth  every  energy,  strain  every  nerve,  avail 
ourselves  of  every  resource,  endure  every  hardship,  surmount  eve- 
ry obstacle,  vanquish  every  difficulty,  until  this  blessed  era  shall 
burst  .upon  us,  and  we,  a  free  and  independent  people,  shall  unite 
as  with  one  voice  in  pseans  of  triumph  and  thanksgiving. 

Already,  since  the  happy  scene  we  have  just  described,  have 
Hartsville,  Elizabethtown,  Muklrough's  Hill,  and  other  points, 
borne  witness  to  the  indomitable  spirit  of  Morgan  and  Duke — 
of  Hanson  and  of  Hunt — -of  Harper  and  Gano — of  Charley, 
Harry,  Brent,  Curd,  Irving,  Caslleinan,  Wickliffe,  Hawkins, 
young  Morgan,  and  numbers  of  unknown  heroes,  whose  endur- 
ances and  achievements,  full  of  chivalry  and  romance,  will  yet 
be  added  to  the  page  of  history,  as  deeds  worthy  the  emulation 
and  praise  of  their  grateful  and  admiring  countrymen — and 
whose  names,  covered  with  glory,  shall  become  household  words 
with  a  free  and  prosperous  posterity: 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  319 


ADDENDA. 


When  the  second  edition  of  the  foregoing  work  was  called  for, 
the  author  designed  to  bring  the  history  down  to  the  present  time, 
but  as  progress  was  made  "the  plot  so  thickened"  and  "the 
story  so  grew,"  as  fact  after  fact  and  incident  following  incident 
presented  itself,  it  was  soon  found  that  material  enough  was  fur- 
nished for  a  volume  larger  than  the  first.  But  the  scarcity  of 
printing  material  makes  it  necessary  to  occupy  but  a  few  pages 
more.  To  condense  one  tithe  of  the  brilliant  achievements  and 
exploits  of  General  Morgan  and  his  men  into  this  space,  would 
furnish  but  a  mere  running  chronology  of  events. 

Passing  oyer  therefore  per  necessity  the  signal  victory  at  Harts- 
ville — the  daring  deeds'of  McMinnville  and  vicinity — I  tie  dashing 
and  marvellously  successful  raid  into  Kentucky  in  December, 
1S62 — the  numerous  subsequent  skirmishes  in  which  the  former 
reputation  of  this  heroic  baud  was  no!  only  maintained,  but  heigh- 
tened— the  unprecedented  invasion  of  the  enemy's  territory  and 
brilliant  sweep  through  the  most  densely  populated  regions  of  In- 
diana and  Ohio,  all  of  which  must  be  left  for  the  second  act  in  the 
thrilling  drama — we  pause  on  the  banks  of  the  beautiful  Ohio  to 
witness  the  struggle  there  between  the  hostile  forces,  which  even- 
tuated in  the  capture  of  General  Morgan  and  so  many  of  his  brave 
men. 

From  the  moment  General  Morgan,  having  crossed  the  Ohio  at 
Brandenburg,  Kentucky,  had  entered  the  State  of  Indiana,  he  had 
been  opposed  at  every  point  by  large  forces  of  Home  Guards  ;  and 
though  most,  of  bis  passage  had  been  pursued  by  a  vastly  superior 
number  of  regular  troops,  but  with  that  indomitable  energy  and 
masterly  strategy,  which  so  strikingly  characterize  bis  every  move- 
niMyt,  be  bad  invariably  vanquished  the  one  and  eluded  the  other, 
until  having  nearly  completed  the  circuit  of  the  State  of  Ohio,  he 
stood  with  his  victorious  troops  on  the  northern  bank  of  the  river. 
It  was  the  morning  of  the  23d  of  July,  a  day  ever  to  be  noted  as 
one  of  the  most  eventful  periods  of  this  eventful  war.  A  portion 
of  the  force  rested  on  the  bank  of  the  stream  whose  placidly  mov- 
ing waters  were  disturbed  by  the  plunging  of  weary  horsemen, 
striving  to  gain  the  opposite  shore  before  the  enemy  should  over- 
take them.  Already  bad  a  part  of  the  command  crossed  safely  over, 
and  with  words  of  cheer  were  urging  forward  their  comrades  who 
were  breasting  the  current,  when  suddenly  a  gunboat  was  descried 


320  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

in  the  distance,  and  at  the  same  time  a  shell  fell  into  the  midst  of 
the  swimmers.  Gen.  Morgan,  who  was  midway  the  river,  compre- 
hended in  a  moment  the  danger  of  the  situation,  and  with  that 
sublime  heroism  which  forgets  personal  safety  when  the  life  of 
another  is  jeopardized,  he  relinquished  his  sure  opportunity  of 
escape,  and  returned  to  share  the  fortune  of  his  men,  who  were 
now  cut  off  from  all  possibility  of  crossing.  A  faint  hope  yet  re- 
mained. It  was,  that  he  might  gain  some  other  point  and  cross 
before  the  gunboat  could  ascertain  his  intention,  but  the  pursuing 
force  was  too  near  at  hand.  He  who  had  so  successfully  evaded 
them  in  a  chase  of  hundreds  of  miles,  fell  with  his  gallant  follow- 
ers a  prisoner  into  their  hands,  surrendering  himself  only  on  the 
express  condition  that  he  was  to  be  immediately  paroled,  which  the 
Federal  officer  who  had  the  honor  to  capture  him  readily  assented 
to,  but  which  bona  fide  stipulation  the  hero  of  Fredericksburg, 
General  Bumside,  with  that  infamous  disregard  for  honor,  which 
so  pre-eminently  characterizes  the  Yankee  nation,  entirely  ignored, 
and  peremptorily  ordered  that  he  should  be  imprisoned  with  his 
officers  in  the  Ohio  Penitentiary  at  Columbus,  while  his  men  were 
sent  to  the  various  military  prisons  in  the  North.  Charley,  Harry 
Roberts,  Irving,  Curd,  and  young  Morgan  shared  the  fate  of  their 
leader,  the  first  two  being  sent  to  the  prison  at  Springfield,  where, 
unless  they  have  escaped,*  they  yet  linger,  the  objects  of  insult 
and  barbarity,  taunted  and  "derided  by  their  inhuman  captors,  be- 
cause they  are  Morgan's  men.  On  the  26th  of'  July  General  Mor- 
gan with  his  staff  officers  reached  the  penitentiary,  where  they 
were  to  be  incarcerated,  in  order  that  the  vengeful  spleen  of  the 
North  might  be  gratified  in  their  humiliation.  The  faithful  histo- 
rian must  record  this  as  one  of.  the  blackest  deeds  of  that  debased 
nation,  who,  because  they  have  the  power,  can  lay  aside  every 
feeling  that  ennobles, human  nature,  to  indulge  the  spirit  of  fero- 
city and  retaliation,  which  would  make  to  blush  the  dark  cheek  of 
the  savage.  Magnanimity  to  a  fallen  foe  is  ever  the  exponent  of  a 
great  and  noble  mind.  Measured  by  this  standard,  where  will  the 
"  universal  Yankee  nation"  rank,  when  the  history  of  this  strug- 
gle shall  be  given  to  the  world  for  its  judgment '{ 

We  give  in   the  words  of  a  correspondent  of  one  of  our  ablest 
journals, f  to  whom  General  Morgan  himself  related  the  incidents, 

t  Richmond  Enquirer, 
the  initiatives  of  his  imprisonment ;  and  as'we  follow  the  intrepid 
captive  through  the  dungeon  and  read  his  remarkable  escape  from 
thence,  and  then  accompany  him  in  his  perilous  journey  through 
Ohio,  Kentucky  and  Tennessee,  until  he  found  himself  safe  within 
Confederate  lines,  we  shall  find  that  in  all  the  calendar  of  wonder- 
ful events,  true  or  fictitious,  there  is  nothing  that  will  approxi- 
mate it  in  thrilling  interest  and  varied  incident. 

*  About  800  of  General  Morgan's  men  are  said  to  have  escaped  from  the 
various  prisons  in  the  North. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  321 

The  remarkable  escape  of  the  Emperor  of  the  French  from  the 
citadel  of  Ham,  striking  as  it  is,  falls  far  below  this  marvellous 
achievement  of  Kentucky's  great  chieftain.  In  the  words  of  the 
correspondent,  "  he  was  first  carried  into  the  '  scouring  room,'  and 
ordered  to  divest  himself  of  his  clothing,  each  article  being  care- 
fully searched,  as  he  laid  it  aside.  He  was  next  ordered  into  a 
large  hogshead  of  water  and  severely  scrubbed  by  a  convict. — 
During  a!!  this  time  he  was  subjected  to  the  vulgar  gaze  of  a  large 
number  of  people,  who  were  attracted  by  curiosity  to  see  the 
'  great  chief.'  This  being  over,  he  was  taken  into  the  '  shaving 
room,'  and  required  to  take  a  seat,  and  then  commenced  the  'bar- 
berizing  process.'  While  this  was  going  on,  Col.  Cluke  and  Dr. 
Steel  came  in  and  exclaimed,  in  great  surprise,  '  My  heaven.  Gen- 
eral, what  are  you  having  yourself  so  disfigured  for  V  He  very 
mildly  and  pleasantly  replied,  'Wait  a  few  moments,  gentlemen, 
and  you  will  see.'  And  sure  enough  they  did.  From  here  he  was 
politely  conducted  to  his  room,  which  consisted  of  a  narrow  cell 
four  and  a  half  feet  wide  and  eight  feet  long."  The  door  was 
closed,  and  Gen.  Morgan  found  himself  a  prisoner  In  the  hands  of 
a  merciless  foe,  who  had  already  given  him  a  prelude  of  what  he 
might  expect  in  the  future.  It  were  futile  to  attempt  to  portray 
the  feelings  of  the  brave  commander,  thus  suddenly  snatched  from 
the  defence  of  a  cause  to  which  he  had  yielded  everything,  and 
which  he  ever  stood  ready  to  defend,  even  at  the  sacrifice  of  his 
own  life.  He  remembered  his  many  noble  followers  who  must  lie 
for  months  in  loathsome  prisons,  he  thought  of  his  numerous  friends, 
North  and  South,  whose  hopes  recently  so  bouyant  were  now 
dashed  to  the  earth.  The  sorrows  of  his  aged  mother,  heroic 
woman,  whose  three  sons  were  now  prisoners,  rose  up  before  him  ; 
and  far  above  and  beyond  all  these  was  the  grief  of  the  young  and 
loving  wife,  when  the  startling  intelligence  of  his  sad  fate  should 
reach  her.  For  himself  he  cared  not.  He  could  bear  the  contu- 
mely and  scorn  of  the  insolent  enemy,  could  look  forward  to  pro- 
tracted imprisonment  calmly  and  unmoved,  but  thoughts  of  her 
who  but  a  few  months  before  had  stood  with  him  at  the  bridal 
altar  and  pledged  her  heart's  undying  love,  now  so  far. away,  made 
the  strong  man  weep,  all  unused  as  he  was  to  tears.  The  day 
wore  on.  Sad  emotions  subdued,  be  set  himself  like  a  true  philo- 
sopher to  the  task  before  him.  Quickly  he  retrospected  the  past — 
calmly  he  looked  at.  the  present,  hopefully  contemplated  the  future. 
Knowing  that  kindness  will  reach  the  heart  of  the  most  brutish, 
he  followed  the  promptings  of  his  own  generous  nature,  and  treated 
every  one  who  came  to  his  solitary  cell  with  politeness.  His  officers 
were  like  himself,  confined  each  in  a  felon's  cell,  not  allowed  at  any 
time  to  communicate  with  any  but  the  prison  attendants,  who  after 
a  few  days  seemed  disposed  to  look  on  the  "  Great  Bandit  "  and 
his  men  "  as  not  so  bad  after  all,"  aud  began  to  show  them  some 
21 


322  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

few  favors.  After  several  days  close  confinement  they  were  per- 
mitted to  emerge  from  their  dungeons  and  to  congregale  in  the 
passage  on  which  their  doors,  opened.  Thoughts  of  escape  were 
soon  busy  in  the  brain  of  each,  but  every  man  made  his  own  per- 
sonal consideration  secondary  to  the  welfare  of  his  loved  leader. 

Whenever  opportunity  offered  they  spoke  to  each  other  on  the 
subject,  and  after  various  suggestions  had  been  thoroughly  dis- 
cussed and  pondered,  it  was  decided  that  the  attempt  should  be 
made  by  Gen.  Morgan,  six  others  determining  to  share  his  fate. 
It  was  deemed  best  that  but  comparatively  few  should  undertake 
the  matter,  lest  the  plan  should  miscarry.  In  order  to  give  a  just 
conception  of  the  difficulties  to  be  encountered  and  overcome,  it 
will  be  well  to  look  for  a  moment  at  the  construction  of  the  prison 
'  and  the  vigilance  of  the  guard  : 

"  The  cells  consisted  of  two  long  rows  of  holes  in  the  wall,  one 
over  the  other.  Tbey  opened  into  a  passage  way,  twelve  feet 
wide  and  ninety  feet  long.  Every  morning,  at  six  o'clock,  they 
were  turned  into  the  passage  way  and  allowed  to  communicate 
with  each  other,  and  at  four  o'clock  were  again  locked  up.  Im- 
mediately on  the  outside  of  the  wing  of  the  building,  in  which 
they  were  confined,  was  a  wall  twenty  feet  high,  separating  tbeni 
from  the  female  department,  and  on  the  outside  of  this  department 
was  another  wall,  thirty -five  feet  high,  with  a  large  over-hang  upon 
which  the  sentinels  walked  their  beat.  On  the  ground,  between 
the  inner  and  the  outer  wall  a  chain  of  sentinels  was  distributed, 
another  on  the  outer  wall  during  the  day,  but  at  night  were  trans- 
ferred to  the  ground  on  the  outside.  Last,  and  most  difficult  to 
elude,  was  the  sentinel  who  entered  the  prison  at  all  times  during 
the  day,  and  at  stated  intervals  of  two  hours  during  the  night,  to 
see  that  everything  was  going  on  well." 

Meanwhile  cheering  letters  came  to  the  prisoners  from  friends 
scattered  throughout  the  North,  and  not  unfrequently  a  loving  mis- 
sive from  dear  ones  far  away  in  the  Sunny  South. 

Preliminaries  for  escape  being  all  well  arranged,  the  work  in 
earnest  was  entered  upon  about  the  last  of  October,  they  having 
then  been  three  months  in  confinement.  All  were  busily  engaged 
whenever  the  vigilance  of  the  guard  gave  them  a  moments'  time 
for  work.  Some  were  occupied  making  a  rope  ladder  with  which 
to  mount  the  walls,  using  for  this  purpose  strips  of  bed  tick  and 
towels,  others  made  bowie  knives  of  the  case  knives  purloined 
from  their  plates.  Each  one  of  the  seven  who  had  decided  upon 
getting  out  was  duly  employed  whenever  possible,  in  digging 
through  the  earth  floor  of  the  cell,  which  consisted  of  nine  inches 
of  hardest  cement  and  nine  thicknesses  of  brick  placed  edgewise. 
IJerculean  task  !  none  but  brave  men  could  have  persevered  to  its 
accomplishment !  Day  after  day  they  toiled,  each  man  at  his 
aperture,  removing  and  concealing  in  his  bed  tick  all  the  rubbish 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  323 

removed.  Working  with  the  sharpened  case  knives  they  made  but 
slow  progress,  and  the  undertaking  looked  interminable.  But  they 
faltered  not.  At  length  a  brick  fell  through,  and  beneath  them, 
running  the  whole  length  of  the  cells  was  discovered  an  air  cham- 
ber. Glorious  discovery!  Their  labor,  so  arduous,  had  not  been 
in  vain.  Yet  there  remained  much  to  be  done.  The  granite 
foundation  of  the  building,  several  feet  in  thickness,  must  be 
pierced  before  they  could  find  egress  into  the  yard.  On  they  toiled 
with  their  frail  implements,  tunneling  this  solid  foundation  at  right, 
angles  with  the  air  chamber,  until  at  last  the  soft  earth  without 
was  reached  some  feet  below  the  surface,  and  through  which  they 
had  to  dig  up  until  they  could  gain  the  ground. 

On  the  26th  of  November,  just  four  months  from  the  day  they 
entered  the  penitentiary,  they  discovered  light.  Their  labor  was 
now  at  an  end.  But  yet  how  fearful  the  undertaking  before  them. 
Guards  bad  to  be  eluded,  walls  scaled,  sentinels  passed,  llow 
faint  was  the  hope  that  all  these  obstacles  could  be  safely  sur- 
mounted, but  their  situation  was  unbearable,  and  life  in  a  dungeon 
worthless,  and  desperation  led  them  on  to  the  dread  attempt.  The 
night  of  the  27th  of  November,  12  o'clock  was  fixed  upon  as  the 
time  for  the  hazardous  step.  How  slowly  wore  away  the  painful 
hours  of  suspense  !  What  if  their  work  should  be  detected,  what 
if  they  had  already  been  discovered,  and  the  plan  laid  to  seize 
them  just  as  they  were  about  to  be  free.  Who  can  picture  their 
direful  apprehension  or  speak  one  of  a  thousand  frightful  thoughts 
that  racked  the  overstrained  brain. 

General  Morgan  tells  us  that  he  prayed  for  rain,  which  would 
greatly  lessen  the  chances  of  detection,  by  driving  the  dogs  to 
their  kennels  and  the  sentinels  to  the  sentry  boxes,  but  as  if  Prov- 
idence who  had  so  far  rewarded  their  labors  by  a  promise  of  suc- 
cess, was  now  about  to  leave  them  to  the  chances  of  their  fate, 
the  morning  of  the  27th  dawned  cloudlessly  bright.  How  sadly 
they  greeted  the  smiling  sunshine !  But  He  who  holdeth  the  winds 
in  his  hands  and  directeth  the  clouds,  granted  at  the  proper  time 
the  request  of  the  tired  prisoner,  and  as  the  night  came  down  the 
clouds  gathered  and  promised  to  send  the  desired  shower.  As  was 
the  custom  of  the  prison  they  turned  into  their  cells  at  6  o'clock, 
to  be  locked  in  for  the  night.  Gen.  Morgan  who  was  to  escape 
through  the  aperture  dug  by  his  brother  Dick,  had  to  exchange 
cells  with  him.  This  was  a  hazardous  undertaking,  for  should  it 
be  discovered  it  would  necessarily  arouse  suspicion  and  inevitably 
lead  to  detection.  Coats  were  exchanged,  each  taking  position  at 
the  door  of  the  other,  turning  their  back  upon  the  guard,  appa- 
rently very  busily  engaged  making  up  their  bed.  As  the  turnkey 
entered  the  passage  way  and  approached  them,  they  entered  the 
cell  and  shut  the  door.  He  did  not  observe  the  change  and  they 
were  safe.    Hour  after  hour  dragged  on.    Their  hearts  almost  for* 


3'J4  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

got  to  throb  as  "  six,  eight,  ten,  eleven  o'clock  "  was  called  ou  thy 
the  men  on  watch.  Another  hour  of  painful  waiting  and  twelve 
o'clock  was  rung  out:  The  sentinel  passed  his  round.  Each  man 
in  breathless  silence  listened  to  his  retreating  footsteps  as  they 
died  out  in  the, long  dark  hall.  He  was  gone.  Hastily  stuffing 
their  flannel  shirts  and  placing  them  in  bed  so  as  to  deceive  the 
guard  in  his  next  round,  each  man  noiselessly  slid  through  the 
aperture  in  his  cell  down  into  the  air  chamber  beneath'.  Through 
this  dark  avenue  to  the  terminus,  at  which  point  they  were  to 
emerge,  they  groped  their  way  silently  along.  The  outlet  in  the 
wall  was  reached.  General  Morgan'  struck  a  match  ;  it  burned 
dimly  in  that  subterranean  vault,  and  revealed  by  its  lurid  light 
the  anxious  countenances  of  seven  brave  men  whose  "  lives  were 
set  upon  a  die,"  crouched  together  in  that  low,  narrow  way.  They 
were  armed  with  their  improvised  bowie  knives.  An  exchange  of 
glances  by  the  failing  light.  'Twas  all.  One  of  the  men  moved 
forward  through  the  opening  in  the  foundation  and  scrambled  up 
to  the  surface  above,  another  and  another — until  the  seven  stood  in 
the  free  air.  No  sound  was  heard  sav«  the  pattering  of  the  rain 
drops.  The  dogs  had  retired  to  their  kennel — the  sentinels  to  the 
sentry  boxes.  Was  not  the  hand  of  God  in  this?  "Who  can 
doubt  it  ?  The  rope  ladder  was  brought  into  requisition,  and  by 
its  aid  the  inner  wall  was  successfully  scaled — there  yet  remained 
the  outer  one  to  pass.  This  was  effected  in  a  manner  similar  to 
the  first,  and  the  party  found  themselves  on  the  top  of  the  wall. 
Entering  an  empty  sentry  box  they  hastily  changed  their  clothes, 
and  cutting  the  rope  without,  which  was  connected  with  a  bell  in 
the  warden's  room,  they  slid  down  and  gained  the  ground. 

Free !  free  !  what  words  can  express  the  feelings  of  these  men 
as  they  realized  they  were  indeed  beyond  the  pale  of  that  horrid 
prison  where  they  had  lain  for  months.  But  danger  yet  stared 
them  in  the  face.  What  if  the  guard  in  one  of  his  unusual  rounds 
should  miss  them  from  their  cells  !  The  alarm  given  would  lead 
to  their  detection  before  they  could  leave  the  city.  What  was  to 
be  done  must  be  done  quickly — not  a  moment-  was  to  be  lost. — 
Dividing  into  three  parties,  General  Morgan  and  Captain  Hines — 
Taylor  and  Shelton — Hockersmith,  Bennett  and  McGee,  they  sep- 
arated to  meet  again — Providence  permitting — in  Dixie.* 

Hastening  to  the  depot,  General  Morgan  and  Captain' Hines 
found  themselves  just  in  time  for  the  morning  train  to  Cincinnati. 
Completely  disguised  they  entered  the  car,  General  Morgan  seat- 
ing himself  beside  a  Federal  officer,  with  whom  he  very  soon  found 
himself  in  pleasant  conversation.  Passing  the  Penitentiary  the 
officer  remarked  to  the  General,  "  there  is  the  hotel  at  which  Mor- 
gan and  his  officers  are  spending  their  leisure." 

*  Taylor  and  Shelton  were  recaptured  in  Kentucky,  endeavoring  to  maka 
their  way  South,  and  sent  back  to  prison. 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  325 

"Yes,"  replied  Morgan,  pleasantly,  "and  I  hope  he  will  make 
up  his  mind  to  remain  there  during  the  war,  for  he  is  a  great  nui- 
sance," to  which  complimentary  remark  the  Federal  bowed  ready 
assent. 

The  train  was  due  in  Cincinnati  at  six  o'clock.  This  was  the 
hour  at  which  they  were  turned  from  their  cells.  Owing  to  a  de- 
tention in  Xenia  they  were  an  hour  behind  time.  They  were  ra- 
pidly Hearing  the  city,  running  with  increased  speed  to  regain  lost 
time. 

"  We  are  dead  men  if  we  reach  the  depot,"  whispered  the  Gen- 
eral to  the  Captain.  "They  have  doubtless  discovered  our  escape 
and  already  an  armed  force  is  awaiting  our  arrival." 

"  What  shall  we- do  i" 

"  Leave  the  cars  now,  or  never." 

The  two  proceeded  to  the  rear  of  the  train.  Putting  on  the 
breaks,  General  Morgan  ordered  the  Captain  to  jump.  Oif  he 
went,  rolling  in  the  mud.  A  moment  more  and  Morgan  had  fol- 
lowed, alighting  on  his  feet.  They  had  sprung  into  a  group  of 
Federal  soldiers,  who  rudely  accosted  them,  wanting  to  know  why 
it  was  they  had  jumped  from  the  cars  there. 

Morgan  nonchalently  replied.  "  What  is  the  use  of  my  going 
into  town,  when  I  live  here?  and  besides,  what  business  fc  it  of 
yours?" 

The  curiosity  of  the  soldiers  seemed  to  be  satisfied  with  the  cool, 
curt  answer,  and  General  Morgan  and  his  companion  evading  them. 
passed  rapidly  on.  They  passed  towards  the  river,  but  found  no 
means  of  crossing,  the  only  skiff  at  the  bank  being  without  oars. 
After  waiting  a  few  minutes,  a  boy  brought  over  a  skiff.  Not  wish- 
ing to  arouse  suspicion  by  undue  anxiety,  the  General,  after  allow- 
ing the  boy  to  wait  for  some  minutes,  asked  what  he  was  looking 
for. 

"  I  am  waiting  for  a  load." 

"  And  what  is  the  price  of  a  load  ?" 

"Two  dollars." 

"Well,"  replied  the  General,  "as  we  are  tired  and  hungry, 
we'll  give  you  the  two  dollars." 

The  two  embarked,  and  as  the  little  skiff  glided  over  the  bosom 
of  the  beautiful  Ohio,  they  felt  to'breathe  more  freely.  Arriving 
at  the  opposite  bank,  General  Morgan  inquired  for  the  house  of  a 
lady  whom  he  knew  he  could  trust  with  his  secret.  Being  directed 
by  the  boy,  the  two  sprung  from  the  skiff,  and,  ascending  the  bank, 
were  soon  seated  by  the  hospitable  fire  of  the  friend,  who  welcom- 
ed them  with  the  greatest  joy.  A  good  breakfast  was  speedily 
prepared  and  partaken  of  with  great,  zest  by  the  two,  who,  free 
from  all  apprehension  of  immediate  danger,  with  appetite  height- 
ened by  excitement,  felt  quite  disposed  to  do  full  justice  to  the 
smoking  dishes.     Ample  means  were  furnished  to  meet  all  exigen- 


326  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

cies,  horses  made  ready,  and  with  the  invocation  of  Heaven's  bless- 
ing and  aid,  they  mounted  and  dashed  forward  on  their  journey. 

Everywhere  they  met  with  the  most  ardent  welcome.  Knowing 
the  country  and  the  sentiments  of  each  family,  General  Morgan 
felt  perfectly  safe,  as  he  moved  on  from  point  to  point.  Every- 
where men,  women  and  children,  and  even  the  negroes,  hailed  him 
with  delight,  each  vieing  with  the  other  as  to  who  should  bestow 
most  attention. 

General  Morgan's  trip  through  Kentucky  is  a  history  in  itself, 
full  of  romantic  interest.  He  remained  sufficiently  long  at  one 
point  to  send  into  Louisville  for  such  articles  as  he  needed,  and  at 
Bardstown  made  a  stay  of  three  days,  feeling  entirely  safe,  al- 
though on  reaching  that  point  he  found  a  Federal  regiment  had 
been  dispatched  there  in  search  of  him. 

That  General  Morgan,  as  well  known  as  he  was  by  both  parties 
in  Kentucky,  should  have  traversed  the  whole  length  of  the  State 
without  detection,  and  that,  too,  when  the  Yankee  authorities  were 
on  the  vigilant  look-out  for  him,  is  pretty  conclusive  evidence  that 
the  great  heart  of  the  people  in  that  portion  through  which  he 
passed,  beats  in  unison  with  the  Southern  cause,  and  that  they  are 
only  awaiting  opportunity  to  manifest  their  sentiments. 

Sometimes  it  became  necessary  for  the  General  and  his  friend 
to  disguise  themselves,  on  which  occasions  he  would  pass  himself 
off  as  an  agent  for  the  Federal  Government ;  on  some  occasions  as 
representing  himself  as  a  cattle  contractor,  and  purchasing  large 
lots  of  cattle;  on  others,  as  Quartermaster  on  important  business, 
and  so  adroitly  did  he  manage  the  ruse,  that  in  no  instance  did  he 
arouse  suspicion. 

Thus  they  journeyed,  being  joined  here  and  there  by  a  man  who 
recognized  him,  until  they  reached  the  banks  of  the  Tennessee 
river.  The  party  now  consisted  of  about  thirty  men.  Here  they 
found  all  means  of  transportation  destroyed.  Not  a  skiff  or  dug- 
out could  be  procured,  and,  in  addition  to  this,  the  banks  were 
strongly  guarded  by  the  Yankees.  Here  was  a  dilemma  from 
which  they  could  be  relieved  only  by  the  most  cautious  and  perse- 
vering movements. 

Going  rapidly  to  work,  the  party  hastily  constructed  a  raft, 
which  being  done,  it  was  decided  that  the  General  and  Hines 
should  cross  over  first.  The  horses  were  to  be  swum  over,  General 
Morgan  paying  a.negro  twenty  dollars  in  gold  to  deliver  his  safely 
on  the  opposite  side.  The  poor  animal,  from  struggling  with  the 
waves,  was  so  exhausted  on  emerging  from  the  water,  as  scarcely 
to  be  able  to  ascend  the  bank.'  The  General  kindly  threw  his 
blanket  over  him,  and  commenced  to  walk  him  about  to  restore 
him.  While  doing  so,  he  suddenly  turned  to  Captain  Hines,  re- 
marking :  "  Hines,  we  will  be  attacked  in  twenty  minutes.  We 
must  hasten,"  and  immediately  set  about  speedily,  saddling  his 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  327 

horse.  He  was  fastening  the  last  girth,  when  the  Minnie  balls 
shredding  the  air,  whistled  thick  around  their  ears.  The  two 
sprang  to  their  horses,  and  dashed  up  the  mountain  side.  The  men 
on  the  opposite  bank  had  to  make  their  escape  as  best  they  could, 
fired  upon  as  they  were  by  a  whole  regiment  of  Federals. 

Here  again  was  another  fearful  position.  The  night  was  rapidly 
coming  down,  and  the  rain  fell  fast  and  cold.  To  remain  on  the 
mountain  until  the  morning  would  be  certain  destruction,  for  then 
every  outlet  would  be  fully  guarded.  General  Morgan  determined 
to  descend  at  all  hazard.  Dismounting  their  horses,  they  set  out 
cautiously  to  feel  their  way  along.  Once  they  passed  a  Yankee 
picket  asleep.  The  General  tells  us  his  first  impulse  was  to  shoot 
him  ;  but  looking  on  the  poor  fellow,  all  unconscious  of  danger,  he 
.decided  to  leave  him  to  his  slumbers,  and  so  walked  on.  Shortly 
after  this,  they  repaired  to  the  house  of  a  Union  man  whose  where- 
abouts General  Morgan  very  well  knew.  The  night,  was  very 
dark — the  rain  came  pitilessly  down.  It  was  an  experiment  brim- 
ful of  danger  thus  to  trust,  themselves  in  the  hands  of  an  enemy. 
But  it  was  the  only  alternative,  and  they  relied  on  their  tact  to 
relieve  them  in  case  they  were  suspected.  They  reached  the  house, 
and  found  the  family  had  retired  for  the  night.  A  loud  call,  fol- 
lowed by  a  hasty  rapping  at  tire  door,  soon  brought  the  old  man 
out.  Kepresenting  himself  as  Captain  Quarter.!  aster  of  Hunt's 
Brigade,  on  his  way  to  Athens  to  purchase  supplies  of  coffee  and 
sugar  for  the  Union  people  of  that  State,  he  readily  gained  at- 
mittance.  The  hostess  was  so  elated  at  the  idea  of  once  again 
having  "  rale  coffee,"  that  she  sprang  from  her  bed,  and,  making 
a  hurried  toilet,  went  rapidly  to  work  and  prepared  them  an  excel- 
lent supper.  During  the  meal,  the  General  engaged  iu  conversa- 
tion with  the  old  man  in  his  pleasant  manner,  which  quite  won 
upon  the  hearts  of  the  pair,  and  they  manifested  their  interest  in 
him  and  his  expedition  by  various  little  manifestations  of  kindness. 

Supper  being  ended  and  bed-time  near  at  hand,  the  General, 
wishing  to  ascertain  whether  it  was  known  that  he  was  on  the 
mountain,  casually  remarked  that  he  had  heard  on  his  journey 
that  some  rebels  had  attempted  to  cross  the  river  during  the 
evening. 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  woman,  "  but  our  men  killed  sum  un  um, 
an'  driv  the  rest  back." 

"Now,  I  know  that,"  said  the  General, ""  but  didn't  some  of 
them  get  over  V 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  but  they  are  on  the  mountain  an'  kan't  git  down,  for 
every  road  is  stopt  up." 

The  General  had  gained  his  object.  It  was  known  every  where 
that  some  men  had  crossed,  and  he  was  fully  aware  that  after  day- 
light escape  would  be  impossible.  So,  turning  to  the  womaa,  he 
said : 


328  .  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

"  It  is  very  important  for  me  to  get  to  Athens  by  to-morrow 
night,  or  I  may  lose  that  sugar  and  coffee,  and  I  am  afraid  to  go 
down  any  of  these  roads  lest  some  of  my  own  men  may  kill  me 
through  mistake." 

The  loss  of  the  sugar  and  coffee  was  more  than  the  old  woman 
could  bear,  so  she  appealed  to  her  husband,  in  one  of  her  sweetest 
tones : 

"  Paul,  can't  you  show  the  Captin  that  road  through  our  farm, 
down  by  the  field  ?" 

"  Of  course,  Paul,  you  can  do  it,"  interposed  the  General,  bland- 
ly, "  and  as  the  night  is  very  cold,  I  will  give  you  ten  dollars  to 
help  you  along." 

As  he  spoke,  he  pulled  the  gold  from  his  pocket  and  displayed  it 
before  Paul's  admiring  eyes.  The  temptation  was  irresistible,  and 
the  old  man  consented  without  hesitation.  Mounting-a  horse,  he 
gave  them  safe  conduct  for  seven  miles,  when  they  were  entirely 
beyond  danger  from  the  pickets.  Of  course  the  old  woman  and 
Paul  have  not  yet  got  any  of  the  "  Oaptin's  rale  coffee." 

Each  day  brought  its  incidents  and  adventures,  and  many  were 
the  "hair  breadth  escapes"  that  marked  the  remainder  of  this 
eventful  journey.  A  few  days  after  the  incident  above  related, 
they  came  to  a  point  on  the  rpad  beyond  which  they  knew  not  ho\v 
to  proceed.  Captain  Hines  volunteered  to  ride  up  to  a  house  they 
saw  standing  a  little  way  from  the  roadside,' and  inquire.  He  had 
scarcely  parted  from  the  General  before  the  rushing  tramp  of  cav- 
alry was  heard  in  hot  pursuit.  He,  unobserved,  turned  aside  from 
the  road,  and  in  their  eager  haste  they  passed  him  unnoticed,  and 
drove  on  yelling  like  a  parcel  of  madmen  after  Hines,  whom  they 
saw  before  them,  and  soon  he  was  a  prisoner  in  their  hands.  He 
attempted  at  first  to  deceive  them,  by  professing  to  be  a  Unionist, 
and  told  them  how  to  pursue  General  Morgan,  who  he  believed  had 
gone  by  a  certain  route,  pointing  out  the  opposite  one  to  that 
which  he  knew  he  would  pursue.  A  portion  of  the  party  dashed 
off  in  full  chase,  leaving  the  remainder  to  take  charge  of  Hines, 
whom  they  regarded  with  suspicion,  notwithstanding  his  protesta- 
tions of  Unionism,  and  the  General  was  left  free  to  select  his  own 
route.  Hines  endeavored  to  play  off  upon  them,  but  they  were 
not  to  be  cajoled,  and  finally,  being  compelled  to  yield  to  their 
close  questioning,  he  acknowledged  himself  a  member  of  the  Third 
Kentucky  Cavalry,  that  bad  been  left  behind  in  the  raid  into  Ohio, 
and  after  remaining  in  the  State  for  some  time  was  now  endeavor- 
ing to  get.  through  into  Confederate  lines. 

This  confession  relieved  them  of  all  suspicion  of  his  connection 
with  Morgan,  and  saved  him  from  being  put  to  the  torture  of  dis- 
closure. They  placed  him  a  prisoner  in  their  camp,  where  he  was 
kept  several  days,  during  which  time  the  party  who  had  pursued 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  339 

General  Morgan  returned,  asserting  that  the  "Great  Bandit"  must 
have  gone  into  the  ground,  for  he  could  nowhere  be  found. 

This  was  a  great  relief  to  Hines,  who  cared  more  for  the  safety 
of  his  General  than  his  own.  From  the  camp  he  was  sent  under 
a  strong  guard  to  Kingston,  wheie  he  was  confined  in  a  wretched 
jail,  without  fire,  and  almost  without  food,  scarcely  enough  being 
given  him  to  support  life.  Here  he  met  with  three  other  Confed- 
erate prisoners,  who  were  removed  with  him  on  the  following 
morning  to  Loudon,  nineteen  miles  distant,  which  journey  they  were 
compelled  to  make  on  foot.  Here  the  four  were  placed  in  the  camp 
of  the  3d' Kentucky  Infantry.  Around  this  camp,  for  the  distance 
of  three-quarters  of  a  mile,  trees  had  been  thickly  felled.  There  was 
but  one  road  leading  out,  and  this  was  kept  strongly  guarded.  In 
an  old  house  in  the  centre  of  this  camp  the  four  were  placed.  Two 
men  kept  guard  within  the  door,  and  without  were  ten  men,  with 
loaded  guns.  Situated  as  they  were,  escape  appeared  impossihle. 
But  the  Captain,  who  had  for  four  months  known  the  horrors  of 
imprisonment  in  a  Northern  dungeon,  felt  determined  never  again 
to  be  subject  to  a  similar  condition,  and  with  his  three  friends  he 
determined  to  make  an  effort  to  regain  his  liberty.  The  plan  was 
laid,  and  that  night  decided  upon  for  the  attempt. 

They  waited  the  going  down  of  the  moon,  when  Hines,  who  had 
been  pretending  to  sleep,  arose,  dressed  himself,  and  approached 
the  fire,  pretending  to  be  suffering  from  cold.  His  companions  did 
likewise,  the  prisoners  talking  all  the  while  very  pleasantly  with 
the  guard,  whose  suspicions  were  not  at  all  arqused  as  to  the  real 
intention  of  the  captives. 

What  followed,  we  will  give  in  the  words  of  the  Captain  himself : 
"  Getting  a  position  near  the  door,  I  laid  my  hand,  unobserved, 
upon  the  latch,  and  lifted  it  without  a  creak,  at  the  same  time 
keeping  up  a  conversation  with,  and  an  eye  on,  the  guard.  All 
ready,  I  turned  to  my  companions  and  remarked,  in  as  cool  a 
manner  as  possible,  knowing  the  bold  course  was  the  best,  '  You, 
gentlemen,  have  remained  here  sufficiently  long.'  All  bowed  to 
the  guard,  and  bid  them  '  good-morning,'  and  throwing  wide  the 
door,  I  bounded  into  the  darkness,  and  ran  towards  the  mountains, 
three-quarters  of  a  mile  distant.  As  I  sprang  from  the  door,  I 
heard  a  struggle  behind  me,  and  I  believe  my  more  unfortunate 
prison  companions  were  there  captured,  and  perhaps  murdered. 
Several  shots  were  fired  after  me  ;  but  knowing  there  was  safety 
and  succor  in  the  mountains,  I*au  for  life  and,  dearer,  liberty.  I 
gained  the  protection  of  the  mountain,  a  spur  of  the  Cumberland, 
but  was  followed  to  its  very  foot.  Until  within  one  half  hour  of 
sunrise  on  the  morning  of  the  21st  December,  I  lay  hid  in  the  peak 
of  the  mountain.  At  nightfall  I  reconnoitered  the  nearest  dwell- 
ing, and  approached.  1  found  the  owner  a  '  good  Union  man,' 
but  respectable  and  not  given  to  suspicions.     I  called  for  supper, 


330  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

representing  myself  as  an  agent  of  the  Federal  Government  on  my 
way  to  Kingston  on  business.  This  insured  me  kind  treatment 
and  a  good  supper.  The  gentleman  was  quite  communicative,  and 
gave  me  the  names  of  some  of  the  '  Secesh,'  as  he  called  them, 
who  lived  thereabout.  After  supper,  the  night  being  moonlight 
and  beautiful,  I  determined  to  avail  myself  of  my  host's 'informa- 
tion concerning  my  '  rebel '  friends,  and  started  out  to  walk  a  few 
miles  further  on  the  road.  I  reached  the  house  of  one  gentleman 
my  entertainer  had  named,  and  he  rendered  me  all  the  assistance 
in  his  power,  and  gave  me  directions  to  the  residence  of  another 
Southern  man,  fifteen  miles  further  on  the  road  to  Swe($  Water 
Run,  and  eighteen  miles  from  Kingston.     I  was  now  safe." 

General  Morgan  heard  nothing  more  of  Hines  after  the  two 
parted  on  the  road,  until  the  Captain  turned  up  safely  in  Confed- 
erate lines.  He  had  supposed  him  dead,  knowing  as  he  did  the 
vengeance  of  the  enemy  against  any  of  his  men,  particularly  those 
who  had  escaped  from  prison. 

General  Morgan  remained  in  the  position  in  which  Hines  had 
left  him  until  he  was  assured  there  was  safety  in  moving  around. 
Leaving  the  more  direct  way,  he  made  a  detour  by  which  he  ef- 
fectually eluded  his  pursuers.  In  front  of  him  was  a  river,  beyond 
which  a  Southern  man  lived  whose  house  he  determined,  if  possi- 
ble, to  reach,  feeling  that  within  its  hospitable  doors  he  should  find 
safety  and  rest  for  the  time  being.  Reaching  the  river,  he  made 
every  effort  to  cross,  but  he  did  not  dare  to  swim  it  without  know- 
ing whether  he  would  meet  with  Federal  picke.ts  posted  on  the 
other  side.  There  was  no  craft  of  any  kind  to  take  him  over,  and 
after  exhausting  his  ingenuity  to  find  means  of  transportation,  he 
was  driven  to  abandon  the  undertaking  and  take  refuge  in  the 
house  of  a  Union  man,  where  he  did  not  know  but  what  he  would 
be  discovered.  His  stay  here  was  fraught  with  danger.  He  bad 
been  entirely  foiled  in  his  effort  to  reach  the  house  of  a  man  who 
be  knew  would  give  him  shelter  and  all  aid  in  his  power.  He  felt 
disappointed — apprehensive.  What  if,  after  all  he  had  achieved, 
he  should  be  recaptured  or  lose  bis  life  within  so  short  a  distance 
of  the  goal  of  his  hopes  ?  All  things  seemed  to  oppose  him,  and 
he  felt  to  be  hemmed  in  on  all  sides.  But  the  kind  Providence 
that  had  watched  over  and  protected  him  up  to  this  hour  was  even 
now  by  this  same  disappointment  shielding  him  from  death.  Just 
here  is  the  hand  of  God  clearly  seen  in  his  preservation.  Who  can 
fail  to  perceive  it?  And  whether  it  was  in  answer  to  bis  wife's 
prayers,  as  the  General  says,  or  not,  it  certainly  was  a  Divine  in- 
terposition in  his  behalf. 

The  enemy,  supposing  he  would  endeavor  to  gain  the  house  of 
this  friend,  knowing  him  to  be  a  true  Southern  man,  crossed  the 
river  and  stationed  themselves  so  that  no  one  could  approach  with- 
out being  discovered.     And  three  young  men,  neighbors  of  the 


OF  MORGAN  AND  HIS  MEN.  331 

gentleman,  were  wantonly  shot,  without  being  halted,  and  when  the 
General  reached  the  house  the  following  morning,  he  found  the 
Yankees  had  just  left,  and  the  dead  bodies  of  the  three  young  men 
lying  there. 

The  object  of  the  Yankees  was  to  kill  him  without  giving  him 
an  opportunity  to  surrender.  They  desired  to  take  his  life  with- 
out being  held  responsible  for  murder ;  but  God  himself  delivered 
him  out  of  their  hands,  and  prospered  his  journey. 

It  was  often  times  difficult  to  avoid  recognition  as  he  passed 
through  those  portions  of  the  State -where  he  had  been  operating. 
All  classes  knew  him,  rich  and  poor,  Confederate  and  Union. 
Passing  along  one  day,  he  met  a  group  of  females,  one  of  whom 
upon  seeing  him  clapped  her  hands  exultingly,  while  a  look  of 
intense  delight  overspread  her  face,  exclaiming  :  "  Oh,  I  know  who 
that  is  ! — 1  know  who  that  is  !"  When,  seeming  to  recall  herself, 
she  let  fall  her  hands,  and  with  a  lingering  look  upon  the  brave 
man  whom  she  loved  too  much  to  betray,  walked  silently  along. 

After  this  General  Morgan  hastened  forward,  feeling  to  a  great 
degree  relieved  of  fearful  apprehension.  Whenever  he  was  re 
cognized,  or  made  himself  known,  he  met  with  the  most  cordial 
welcome  and  the  kindliest,  hospitality.  Passing  through  South- 
east Tennessee  into  North  Carolina,  he  made  his  way  first  to  Dan- 
ville, Virginia,  where  he  met  with  Mrs.  Morgan,  who  accompanied 
him  to  Richmond,  where  a  brilliant  reception  was  given  him,  the 
hero  of  the  battle-field,  and  the  hero  of  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
escapes  that  the  history  of  the  world  has  on  record.  An  achieve- 
ment which  proves  General  Morgan  to  be  possessed  of  that  fore- 
sight and  tact  which,  combined  with  undisputed  courage,  stamps 
him  not  only  the  brave  man,  hut  the  able  General.  And  now, 
having  declined  all  receptions  and  dinners,  all  the  pageantry  of 
fame,  he  is  rallying  his  men  preparatory  to  marching  again  against 
that  foe  who,  with  all  the  infamy  for  which  they  are  noted — which 
has  made  the  term  Yankee  a  synonym  for  meanness  and  brutality— 
heaped  upon  him  when  a  prisoner  in  their  "power,  every  indignity 
that  their  cunning  could  devise  and  their  cruelty  execute. 

During  his  confinement  in  prison,  General  Morgan  used  all -his 
nfluence  to  encourage  his  men  to  prudence  and  fortitude,  by  tell- 
ing them  to  bear  it  all,  their  time  would  come  after  awhile;  and 
inow  that  time  has  come,  and  woe  to  those  who  meet  him  and  his 
men  on  the  little-field.  The  remembrance  of  bitter  wrongs,  of 
shameful  neglect,  but,  above  all,  of  heartless  insult,  will  nerve  their 
arms  in  the  hour  of  conflict,  and  they  when  striking  for  the  cause 
of  justice  and  freedom,  will  fully  realize  against  u-hom  they  fight. 
Sad  it  is  that  the  provocations  ot  an  unprincipled  enemy  should 
drive  to  dark  and  bitter  retaliation  men  who,  under  all  circum- 
stances, would  desire  to  be  governed  by  feelings  of  honor  and 
humanity. 


332  RAIDS  AND  ROMANCE 

Already  have  eight  hundred  of  those  captured  with  General 
Morgan,  and  at  different  points  on  the  expedition,  escaped  from  the 
various  prisons,  and  are  flocking  to  the  standard  of  their  gallant 
leader.  But  as  many  more  remain  behind  the  subjects  of  tyranny, 
the  objects  of  brutality  and  insult.  Charley  and  Harry  Roberts 
are  of  the  latter  number.  Mary  and  Evangeline  have  yet  to  sor- 
row over  the  sad  fate  of  those  brave  heroes  to  whom  they  have 
plighted  their  young  heart's  best  affections ;  for  whom  they  have 
left  home,  friends  and  all  the  endearments  of  early  childhood,  to 
become  strangers  in  a  strange  land.  May  they  receive  at  the 
hands  of  those  for  whose  cause  their  husbands  are  now  pining 
in  imprisonment,  tender  sympathy  and  heartfelt  kindness.  And 
let  us  hope  that  they  who  have  endured  hardship  of  every  phase — 
who  have  achieved  glorious  victory  on  many  a  battle-field — have 
shed  their  blood  in  defence  of  the  cause  of  right — have  pined  for 
months  in  dreary  confinement  for  the  sublime  principles  which 
in  all  ages  of  the  world  have  actuated  men  to  deeds  of  noblest 
daring,  will  soon  be  returned  to  their  friends  and  their  country. 
Meanwhile,  let  those  who  are  in  the  field  nerve  their  hearts  anew, 
to  overthrow  the  enemy  who,  should  he  succeed,  will  reduce  to 
worse  than  slavery  ourselves  and  our  children.  All  that  makes 
life  desirable — yea,  tolerable — is  at  stake.  Soldiers  of  the  Con- 
federate army !  realize  this,  and  let  your  watchword  ever  be  liberty 
sor  death  !  Citizens  of  the  Confederate  States  !  realize  it  and 
shrink  from  no  sacrifice,  however  great,  that  will  aid  the  glorious 
cause  of  Southern  Independence  ! 


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